Sleepovers: A Secret History
by Shamelsshussy
Summary: What Brittany and Santana have been to each other, what they are and what they will become. How they get there, little by little, alone together, while everyone else is asleep.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a series I started a while ago but never posted here. I'm interested in exploring the conscious and subconscious incremental steps that girls like Brittany and Santana take when going from a close friendship to a more intimate relationship. So that's what this series is about - my plan is to track the development of their relationship throughout 8th, 9th, 10th and into 11th grade. (I'm assuming that Season 1 was 10th, and Season 2 is beginning of 11th). Each installment will depict a sleepover, and try to capture some of those moments that may not seem like much separately, but strung together, tell the story of an ongoing and intense connection between these characters.

Also, I know a lot of Brittana shippers are in a tizzy lately, cause the show isn't really lining up with our vision of B & S. Personally, the fact that people are so invested in these characters and connected to their story just brings home to me how few representations of queer, feminine, teenage sexuality and romance there are out there. That fact is only gonna make me ship harder and write more (both fanfic and other fiction about teen girls in love) and share it with as many people as possible. I hope you like what I come up with. Read and review, y'all.

* * *

**8th Grade - June **

"Santana, truth or dare?"

Santana dipped the tiny brush into the pot of purple nail polish on the floor at her side and slowly pulled it out, carefully wiping the excess on the inner rim of the bottle. She swiped the polish on her left pinkie, once, twice, three times. Lifting her hand off of her knee and into the light, she into admired her handiwork. She replaced the brush in the bottle, and handed it to Brittany.

"Truth."

The dares tonight had been totally lame. She wasn't about to kiss a toilet seat or prank call a sub.

"Here, Brit, don't do it right on the pillow." Quinn was lying on the bed and tossed a magazine down to Brittany, who was sitting on the floor with one of Quinn's pink pillow shams on her lap. She laid the magazine on top, and pulled Santana's right hand toward her again.

"How far have you gotten?" Courtney had done her nails first, then promptly bit the polish off. Santana could see chips of purple stuck in her braces.

"Be more specific."

"What base?"

"Regular bases or Quinn's church bases?"

Quinn blushed. That was last year, but Santana never let things like that go.

Courtney snickered into her can of Diet Coke. "Regular bases." She lay down on the floor and leaned her bare feet on the nearest post of Quinn's canopy bed.

Brittany ran the edge of her thumb along the cuticle of Santana's right index finger, cleaning up an errant drop of polish. "Santana doesn't play baseball…"

"No, Brit, like with guys you know?" Quinn scooted to the edge of the bed and tried to sound knowing. "First is making out, second is when he puts his hand up your shirt, third is his hand…down your…" Her confidence failed her and her pale cheeks flushed again.

Santana never blushed. "Third."

"Told ya!" Courtney kicked a foot in Quinn's direction. "Quinny thought you wouldn't, cause you and Matt have only been going out for like, two weeks."

"It just seemed soon. For the first time you…" Quinn's voice was soft, her gaze roamed the room.

Santana made Quinn look her dead in the eye. "Wasn't the first time."

Courtney hyucked up a mouthful of soda, laughing and spluttering as she raised herself up onto one elbow to avoid choking.

Quinn opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She closed it again.

Santana moved to cross her arms over her chest, but Brittany kept hold of her right hand, blowing on her nails to dry them. So Santana just let her left hand rest on her right elbow, and felt Brittany's breath, soft and steady against her skin.

Courtney was sitting up now.

"Brittany, your turn. Truth or…"

Brittany looked up. "I got to third base with my cousin."

Even Quinn laughed at that one.

"Brit…" Santana scooted closer and nudged Brittany with her shoulder. "Alex isn't really your cousin. He's just your aunt's stepkid."

"Oh."

"Anyway, that doesn't count. You didn't even pick truth or dare. Now you HAVE to do a dare."

"Now you HAVE to do a dare." Santana mimicked Courtney, rolling her eyes.

"You don't have to Brittany, if you don't want."

Santana thought sometimes Quinn just talked to hear herself sound like voice of reason.

"No, it's cool."

Brittany would always rather do something than talk about doing something.

"What do you want me to do?"

Courtney hopped up and retrieved her overnight bag from the far side of Quinn's bedroom. She pulled out a t-shirt and unrolled it. Her old hardcase ipod cover fell from the folds of the shirt.. When she opened the case, there was no ipod. Instead, a few of her mom's Parliament Menthol Lights were rolling around in there. She held the case out to Brittany.

"Smoke one."

Quinn leapt down off the bed, all pretense of the good hostess gone. "Not in my room!" Her voice came out in a panicked, raspy hiss.

Brittany shrugged and picked one of the three cigarettes. "I'll do it on the roof. Hold this San."

She handed Santana the cigarette and crossed to her pile of sleepover gear. She picked her jacket up and slid it on. It was her dad's old letterman jacket from McKinley, and even rolled up, the sleeves hung past her wrists.. She hiked them up and snapped a few of the jacket's buttons closed. The bottom hem came to her knees, covering her shorts. She shoved her feet into sneakers, not bothering with socks or doing the laces.

She grabbed the cigarette back from Santana on her way to the window. It was open already, venting the nail polish fumes. With a swift, graceful motion, she slipped one long leg through, then her body, then pulled her other leg behind.

Quinn broke the silence. "I'm no expert or anything, but doesn't she need a lighter or something?"

Courtney had fished one out of her bag. Santana snatched it up and followed Brittany out the window.

"Make sure she smokes the whole thing!" Courtney called after her.

The roof outside Quinn's window was the roof of the Fabray's kitchen addition. It was almost flat.

Brittany had walked a few steps away from the window. Santana could see her, sitting with her back against the house, legs stretched out in front her. The cigarette was in her right hand, forgotten. All of Brittany's attention was on the night sky.

The night was cold for June, goosebumps rose on Santana's arms and legs. The roof shingles were rough and pebbly under her bare feet. She gingerly picked her way over to Brittany and sat down.

"Look San, make a wish." Brittany pointed up.

Santana smiled. "B, that's a plane."

Brittany smiled back. "Way more wishes when planes count."

Brittany unbuttoned her jacket and slid her arms out of the sleeves. She held the oversized coat open, and Santana slipped in, close against Brittany, and pulled the jacket closed around them both.

Brittany was warm; Santana wrapped her right arm around her friend's waist to get warmer. For a quiet moment, they watched the plane blink in the sky.

"You're supposed to be smoking that." Santana nodded toward the cigarette.

"Right." Brittany put the cigarette between her lips and waited.

Santana slipped the jacket back on her left shoulder and took her arm away from Brittany, freeing her hands, feeling the cold night rush against her skin again. She flicked the lighter, once, twice, before it caught. Santana cupped her left hand around the flame and brought it to the end of the cigarette.

"Suck in. Not too hard. Like, tinytiny."

Brittany obediently took a small puff.

"Blow it out now."

Brittany blew too hard, like blowing the candles on a birthday cake.

Santana giggled. "Not like that."

Brittany tried again, but this time breathed in deep and gagged as soon as the mentholated smoke hit her throat. She coughed. Even in the dim light, Santana could see Brittany's face redden and her eyes tear up. She took the cigarette from Brittany with her left hand and rubbed her back in slow circles with her right. "Take a little breath."

Brittany sniffled, calming.

"Smoke it all Brittany!" Courtney's voice sing-songed through the open window.

"Shut up C, she's doing it." Santana called back.

"Guys!" Quinn shushed them. "You're gonna wake up my parents."

Inside the room, Quinn crossed to the window. She waved away the smell of smoke that was wafting in, and stuck her head out.

"San," she whispered. "I'm gonna close this most of the way. But its not like, locked or anything. Just push it up when you guys wanna get back in. Okay?"

Quinn stayed leaning on the sill for a minute, waiting for an answer. Brittany and Santana were in the shadows, but she could see the pin point light of the burning cigarette as it passed between them. Their soft whispers and muffled laughter floated off into the dark hush of night.

No one answered Quinn. The cold crept over the sill, crawling up onto her bare arms and neck. She shivered, then slid the window almost all the way down and turned back into her bedroom.

On the roof, Brittany was trying another drag on the cigarette, with minimal success.

"It's just gross."

"Just give it to me, I'll finish it."

Brittany handed the cigarette back. Her fingers brushed against Santana's. Santana let the pads of her finger tips linger, feeling the smooth polish on Brittany's nails.

Free of the cigarette, Brittany wrapped both her arms around Santana's waist and cuddled closer.

"Why is it so cold? Its almost summer."

Santana took a drag, deeper and much more expert than Brittany's had been. She didn't like smoking, much. But it was a skill that came in handy sometimes.

Three more drags and the cigarette was almost gone.

"Blow some on me, so Courtney thinks I smoked it all."

Santana took in a lungful of smoke and blew a soft steady stream onto Brittany's skin, against her neck, her ear, across her cheek, her mouth.

Brittany squirmed against Santana. "Tickles."

Santana flicked the butt away, watched it arc off the roof and land in the Fabray's front yard. The ember died in the grass, wet from the sprinklers.

She turned back to Brittany and really tickled her, running her fingertips quickly against the sides of her ribs.

Brittany laughed out loud then, and the sound went skipping through the quiet night, echoing off the roof and walls. Santana clapped a hand over her mouth. "Shh...Quinn'll freak out."

"Quit tickling me then." Brittany giggled into Santana's hand, and then stuck out her tongue, a quick lick against Santana's palm.

"We should go in."

Santana stood up first, and waited while Brittany pulled her jacket all the way back on. She helped her to her feet, and they moved together toward the bedroom window. As the drew closer, Santana saw that Quinn had turned the lights out. She and Courtney were asleep on the bed, laying head to foot.

"Lame."

"What San?"

"Nothing. But next weekend, sleepover at my house. Just me and you."

Brittany nodded. "Sure, just me and you."

Santana pushed the window open, but let Brittany slip through first. She followed, and closed the window behind them.

A little light seeped in from Quinn's bathroom, where her old Noah's arc nightlight was still plugged in. It was enough for Santana to find her bag, and dig her toothbrush out from the side pocket. She slipped off to the bathroom to brush the smoke taste out of her mouth.

When she returned, Brittany had set up their sleeping bags the usual way, both of them unzipped all the way, one on top of the other, making one bigger bed. Santana grabbed a couple of pillows and tossed one to Brittany.

They settled down, their combined warmth making it cozy, even on Quinn's hard floor.

"Goodnight Brittany."

"You're minty now."

Brittany turned over, finding a comfortable spot on her pillow. Santana put her cold toes on Brittany's calves. Brittany gave a tiny yelp, but didn't really mind.

"Sweet dreams San."

Santana closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep right away. She could hear Quinn, tossing in her sleep, and Courtney, mumbling as she tried to avoid Quinn's kicking feet. Beside her, Brittany was fast asleep in seconds, her breathing quiet and even. Santana matched her breath with Brittany's and like always, the peaceful steady rhythm soothed her into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: thanks so much for all the great comments. I'm glad people like this idea. I hope you'll keep reading and reviewing. I heart feedback. :)

So...One of the things I think is interesting about the Brittana situation is that there seems to be some dissonance between the public perception of them and their private interactions. Last chapter we saw them in private. This chapter I'm investigating a public experience and then next we'll get back to that cozy sleepover time and see some of those differences start to emerge.

* * *

**9th grade – September**

Bodies jostled and pushed against each other as the girls crowded up to the bulletin board. In the crush, Santana couldn't see. Someone's ponytail got in her mouth; she spluttered and shoved.

Brittney was taller. She was able to see an opening and slide a long leg through, bumping girls out of the way with her hips. When she was in front, she threw a quick elbow to the girl next to her, giving Santana an opportunity to squeeze through too.

There were two lists up on the board, Varsity and JV.

"Screw JV" Santana muttered, and scanned the Varsity list. Down to L in the alphabetical list. Lopez, Santana. A flutter in her stomach, and then a knot, for just a second, until she scanned further and found Pierce, Brittany.

Santana felt Brittany's hand in hers, squeezing. She let herself be dragged to the edge of the crowd. Once they had more space, Brittany swept her up into a spinning hug.

"We're gonna look so hot in our uniforms." Brittany's mouth was right at Santana's ear, and her voice set the skin there buzzing.

Quinn bounded over, and even Santana was glad to see her. She disentangled herself from Brittany and met Quinn's high five. "Varsity, bitches!"

"What about Courtney?" Brittany looked around for her.

"JV." Quinn pointed to a glum clump of girls on the other side of the gym.

Some of the girls who hadn't made either team were openly bawling.

Coach Sylvester raised a megaphone. "Crybabies, out!"

The sniffling girls moved toward the locker room. "I look forward to passing you in the halls without the slightest hint of recognition." Coach called after them.

"JV, over there with Coach Pine. I don't care about you."

Coach smiled at the girls who were still left in front of her. "Varsity squad, take a seat. The winning begins now."

* * *

An hour later, Quinn, Santana and Brittany walked out of the gym together, in their first custom fitted Cheerios uniforms.

"Those seamstresses were really…"

"Hey freshbitches." Morgan came up behind them, interrupting Quinn. Quinn's hands flew to her ponytail, tightening it, trying to get it as high as Morgan's.

"Sash and I are doing our co-capitain duty and hosting a little party tonight, Varsity Cheerios and Varsity Football. My house, nine. Uniforms mandatory. Sash'll text you the address."

Behind Morgan, Sara-Ashely pushed send on her phone, and Santana, Quinn and Brittany heard theirs buzz and twing.

Morgan walked off toward the parking lot, flashing them a tight smile. Sash shot them a smile too, a much nicer one, and waved as she slipped into the passenger seat of Morgan's black SUV.

Brittany dug her phone out of a side pocket of her new Cheerios gym bag. The address was a few blocks away from her house.

"Wanna sleep over after the party?"

Santana nodded immediately. "Party tonight, blueberry pancakes in the morning!" She bounced a little in her sneakers. The second weekend of her high school career was shaping up to be severely awesome.

"I can't. Church early tomorrow." Quinn said.

Brittany pouted, but Santana didn't exactly mind.

Brittany's mom pulled up, waving excitedly at the sight of their uniforms.

"You guys need a ride?"

Santana moved toward the car, but Quinn stopped her. "We can drop you, its closer."

"Ok, well, come over before, we can get dressed." Brittany pulled Quinn into a quick hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "This is gonna be so cool. "

Her next kiss slipped a little and landed more on the side of Santana's mouth than on her cheek.

Santana batted at Brittany's ponytail. "See you later."

* * *

They walked over to the party. It was only a few blocks from Brittany's to Morgan's. The first chill of fall was creeping in, and their bare legs broke out in goosebumps.

They ran into Finn on the front lawn.

"Quinn!" He waved his ridiculously long arms, like they couldn't see him right there.

Brittany leaned in close to Santana and whispered, "Is he so loud because his head's so big?"

Finn was wearing his new varsity football jersey.

"...second string, but still..."

Quinn slid a hand up Finn's bicep as they walked into the party together.

Santana rolled her eyes, but kept quiet. If Quinn wanted to waste her time with the same boys they had known forever, that was her business,

Just inside the front door, the party wasn't quite raging yet. A few kids were clustered here and there, messing with the stereo, looking for the liquor cabinet. Some sophomore Cheerios were dancing, and Brittany moved to join them, pulling Santana along.

But Santana knew that the road to the top of the pyramid didn't start with girls like that. She spotted some older guys over by a keg in the kitchen. Guys with much better arms than Finn.

"Let's get beers."

"Beer makes me burp too much."

"Well, just hold it then. Unless you want to join Quinn's little purity party over there?"

Quinn had Finn and some of the other freshman in a corner already, the corner farthest from the keg.

Brittany shook her head no. Santana linked her left pinky through Brittany's right and led her into the kitchen.

"Hey." Santana nodded at the three guys clustered around the keg. One was tall and thin with a close blond buzz cut, another was shorter and stockier, with caramel skin a little darker than Santana's and striking green eyes. The last guy was Puck. Santana knew him, he was in Brittany's 3rd period math.

Brittany didn't say anything. She cast a shy glance around, her blue eyes shaded by long lashes.

Santana couldn't laugh out loud, but gave her a pinky squeeze. Brittany was so good at snowing guys with that adorable bashful act.

"Hey." Puck got busy filling a cup with beer. He handed the first one to Santana and then a second to Brittany. They took them with their free hands. Santana swung her inside arm a little, and Brittany's came with her, still holding her pinky. Their movement ruffled the pleats of their cheer skirts.

"You're in my math." Brittany said to Puck.

Santana took a sip of beer, then flicked her tongue over her upper lip, catching the foam. "Yeah, what's your deal, are you in 9th or 10th or what?"

Puck's gaze was trained on Santana's mouth. "Ninth."

The blonde guy grinned and shoved him. "Again."

"Can you drive?"

"Permit. License in December."

"Awesome. You can talk to me again in December." Santana turned to face the tall blonde boy.

"You're a junior, right?"

Puck pounded the rest of his beer. Out of the corner of her eye Santana could see him blush. The tips of his ears matched the red of his oversized Solo cup.

Brittany let go of Santana's hand and stuck her index finger into the beer foam. She licked it off.

"Dude!" The green eyed boy shoved Puck this time.

"What?...Oh. Brittany, Santana," Puck waved a vague hand in the air. "Harris, Alex." He tried once more to catch Santana's eye, but she was already busy.

"Want a tattoo?" She had found a marker on the counter, and was eyeing Alex's bicep.

Puck walked off into the crowd.

When the tattoo was done, Alex flexed, Santana giggled.

"Want a real drink?" He pulled a flask out of his back pocket.

Santana glanced up, looking for Brittany, but she was a few feet away, dragging Harris over to the dance floor. She bit the inside of her check and hesitated for a second. But when she turned back to Alex, she turned her bright smile back on too.

"Sure."

* * *

A few hours later, the party had come alive. The living room, kitchen and back deck were crowded with kids, dancing, drinking spilling beer. Everyone was loud and sweaty.

But even from all the way across the room, Brittany could tell that Santana was the wrong color. Her skin, a warm burnished copper from a summer spent in the sun, had faded. She looked sallow, greenish.

"Mmmph." Harris swooped in for another kiss, but Brittany pushed back against his chest and slid off of his lap.

He tried to keep hold of her hand, but she was too fast and he was too full of beer. His hand fumbled at the pleats in her cheer skirt, grazed a satisfying patch of thigh, but then she was gone.

"What the…" He mumbled to himself. He spied a full cup of beer on the coffee table, and reached out for it, sipped it, didn't bother to wonder whose it was. He watched Brittany cross the room, nimbly dodging around the stumbling jocks in her way, and kneel down in front of Santana. Santana was in a recliner with Alex, his hands roaming, her head lolling against his chest.

"Santana?"

With some effort, Santana raised her eyes. When she saw Brittany, she perked up considerably.

"Brittany!" Santana launched herself out of the chair, at Brittany, arms open for a hug.

Brittany caught her, falling back on her heels under Santana's weight. Together, they tumbled to the floor.

In the chair, above them, Alex laughed.

Brittany ignored him. She stayed on the floor, Santana sprawled across her body.

"San?" She wriggled, trying to get a look at Santana's face. "Are you feeling ok?"

Santana snuggled into Brittany's side, tucking her head between Brittany's shoulder and chin.

"Shyeah. I feel awesome."

She hiccupped and Brittany felt the jolt against her own ribs.

"I'm making out with that guy. Adam."

Alex peered down at them. "Alex," he corrected.

"Whatever. He's hot. I'm hot." Santana petted Brittany's cheek, slid her fingers over her lips and nose. "You're hot." She hiccupped again.

Alex, still hanging over the side of the recliner, piped up. "It'd be totally hot if you two made out."

"Nnnm" Santana mumbled.

Brittany struggled out from under her and sat up.

Santana tried to sit up too, but reeled and crumpled back down to the floor.

"She's wasted." Alex snickered.

"Brit. I think I'm gonna…"

Brittany didn't wait for her to finish. She stood up, pulling Santana with her, and led her quickly through the kitchen, through the back door, out into the cool September evening.

Just in time, Santana leaned out over the deck railing and vomited in to the bushes below.

Whoops and shouts went up from a table of Cheerios sitting at the other end of the deck.

"Poor baby freshmeat!"

Quinn peeled away from the group of older girls and joined Brittany and Santana.

"Is she ok?"

Santana retched again, but nothing came. She leaned her forehead on the railing. Brittany reached out to smooth back the wisps of hair that had escaped from Santana's ponytail.

"We should take her home."

Santana gulped air, focused hard, and leaned out over the railing again. She managed this time. When she was done, she spit twice, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She was glad for the dark. She could feel her cheeks flame with a hot, embarrassed flush.

She stood up straight, cautiously keeping a hand on the railing. But she found she didn't need it. The world wasn't spinning quite as much as it had been a few minutes ago.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's get out of here."

"I'll get Finn" Quinn saw Santana's scowl. "Just in case you...we...need help."

"Meet you in front." Santana wasn't about to walk through that party, see that Alex kid again.

Quinn nodded and headed back inside.

"Are you ok to wait here for a minute?" Brittany asked.

"Sure, yeah, I'm fine."

Brittany slipped back through the kitchen door. Less than a minute later, she was back, a cold can of diet coke in her hands.

She handed it to Santana. "For your tummy."

Santana smiled and gratefully accepted the soda. She popped the can's tab and took a big gulp, trying the chase the sour taste from her mouth.

Brittany reached out her right hand to take Santana's left. She led her toward the stairs that led down to the lawn.

They had to pass the table of Cheerios. As they passed, Morgan stood up, and came around from the far side of the table. "You go hardcore Lopez." She wasn't smiling.

Santana bit her bottom lip, breathed deep. "At least she knows my name." Santana thought to herself.

Sash joined Morgan, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Sorry about the bushes." Santana mumbled.

Morgan studied Santana for a moment, her lips pursed, clearly rolling an insult around on her tongue. But Sash pulled her closer. Santana saw her fingers dip just under the waistband of Morgan's skirt, stroke the skin at her hip.

Santana saw it in slow motion. Her tongue felt large and sloppy in her mouth. She realized she was still pretty drunk, took a sip of diet coke.

"Take two Advils before bed." Sash was saying. "Then you won't have a headache tomorrow."

All Morgan said was "See you at practice," and turned back to the crowd, Sash still close against her.

* * *

Around the front of the house, Brittany and Santana met Quinn and Finn.

"Quinn and Finn!" Santana giggled hysterically. Now that the roiling feeling in her stomach had subsided, the warm, careless part of drinking was back.

Brittany cracked up. "Quinn and Finn! Quinn and Finn!"

Finn turned to Quinn. "Is she drunk too?"

"I don't think…"

Brittany jumped up and down to keep warm. "I only had one beer. It's just funny. You rhyme."

Without a word, Santana walked off, still giggling, in the direction of Brittany's house. Brittany bounced along behind her. Finn and Quinn followed more slowly, Finn ducking his head. But Quinn could see his goofy half smile anyway.

Finn thought about trying to take Quinn's hand. But then he imagined what Santana might say if she saw, and thought the better of it.

Half a block ahead, Santana was making a running leap onto Brittany's back, demanding a piggy back ride.

"They're lunatics." Quinn whispered to Finn, happiness evident in her voice.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews and encouragement! I'll definitely keep going with this story, and I enjoy hearing from y'all SO much.

I know that this story is slow and steady character development, which I hope people continue to enjoy. I'm trying to stay faithful to the characters we know and love but also to what I believe this kind of girl/girl relationship might be like in life. I foresee will be more overt romance and angst (and maybe even some smut) in the future as they get older and their relationship gets more complicated. Keep reading! I hope to get the next chapter done while I'm on vacation next week. So there should be another update ere long. :)

* * *

It took almost 20 minutes to reach Brittany's house. She only lived four blocks away from Morgan, but they had to stop more than once.

Brittany was carrying Santana, piggy back style, her hands holding on to Santana's thighs. With access like that, she couldn't keep from tickling the backs of Santana's knees, which made Santana squirm and tickle back, which made Brittany laugh and stumble, which made them both lurch and tumble.

The third time they spilled over onto someone's lawn, Quinn separated them, pulling Brittany around to her right side and keeping Santana on her left. But Brittany and Santana just reached around her to nudge and poke at each other, not too mindful that they were also nudging and poking at Quinn in the process.

Quinn tried to keep a straight face, but after a few steps she had to retaliate. An all out tickle fight broke out on the sidewalk.

Finn was a few steps behind them, watching. A wide smile spread across his face. He bounded forward and wrapped his gangly arms around all three girls.

"Group hug!"

Quinn giggled, Brittany hugged back, hard.

Santana immediately squirmed and shoved, but since she was the smallest, she couldn't make much headway in freeing herself. Instead, she snaked a skinny arm through the crush and managed to wrap a hand around Finn's forearm. She dug her nails in.

"Ow!" He let go, jumped back.

He cradled his right arm in his left hand, running his thumb over the marks Santana had left. Even in the dim street light, he could see the half-moons her nails had dug into his skin.

"That's what you get for sexually harassing us."

"I wasn't sexually…"

"Hey! It's my house!" Brittany let out a happy shriek.

Quinn shushed her. "Its after midnight Brit."

"It's my house!" Brittany whispered, grinning at Quinn.

Santana and Brittany started down the front path, but Quinn hung back. "It's late….I should get home..."

"I can walk you!" Finn's voice came out almost as loud as Brittany's had been.

Quinn smiled up at him.

"Okay."

He forgot all about Santana mauling his arm.

"Okay." Finn echoed.

Santana looked at Quinn, then Finn, then back again.

"Okay, okay" she mimicked, sending Brittany into yet another fit of giggles. "You dorks deserve each other."

She spun on her heel, her skirt ruffling out around her.

"C'mon B."

She grabbed Brittany's hand and they pelted up the walk to Brittany's front door.

"'Night dorks!"

* * *

Brittany and Santana burst through into the nighttime hush of Brittany's house. They stumbled over each other's feet in the dark of the front hall. Brittany held in a whoop of laughter, and it became a snort instead. Santana snickered. Before they could quiet down, Brittany's mother appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Hi girls."

"Hi mama," Brittany answered, beaming up at her mother.

"Hi Anna." Santana kept her voice soft, and hid behind Brittany a little. She really hoped Brittany's mother couldn't smell the rum and the vomit all the way at the top of the stairs.

"Did you have fun?"

They nodded in unison.

Anna smiled. "I'm glad." She yawned. "Sleepy, but glad. If you want a snack, there's still the rest of the apple crisp."

Santana poked Brittany. "Ask her"

"What?"

"Ask her."

"Ask her what?"

Anna broke in. "Yes Santana. We have blueberries for tomorrow morning."

"Yay!" It was too loud. Santana clapped a hand over her mouth.

But Anna was still smiling. "Just dial it down a little. Christina is sleeping."

"We will. I promise." Santana whispered.

"Goodnight mama."

Anna rejoined her husband in bed, a small smile lingering on her lips.

He turned off The Daily Show. "Brittany ok?"

She nodded, snuggling up to him. "She's brilliant. Geniusly happy."

He wrapped his arms around his wife.

"That's my girl."

* * *

"Can I take a shower? I feel kinda gross from puking."

"Yeah, use the downstairs bathroom."

The upstairs bathroom was right next to Chrissy's room. Santana suspected that a midnight shower waking up her five year-old would test even Anna's patience.

"There's no big towels down here. I"ll get one. And your pjs and stuff." Brittany tiptoed up the stairs, as quietly as she could manage.

Santana made her way to the bathroom downstairs. She didn't need to turn on any lights along the way. When she flicked the switch in the bathroom, the bright light made her vision swim, reminded her that she was still a little tipsy.

It was cold. She hurried to turn on the shower, cranking the tap as far as it would go to the hot side.

She undressed while she waited for the water to warm up. She kicked off her shoes, but left her socks on, not wanting to feel the chill of the tile floor on her bare feet until it was absolutely necessary. She undid the fastener on her skirt, slipped the zipper down, and let it fall. Her fingers felt for the hidden zipper in the left seam of her Cheerios top. She found the tab and pulled up, then grabbed the hem and lifted the shirt over her head.

She turned to the full length mirror on the back of the door. Her red spanx came up high on her waist, almost to her belly-button. She folded them down until she could see the tops of her hipbones. Her eyes tracked over the lines of her body in the mirror.

Coach Sylvester had put them through a week of punishing drills at cheer clinic before tryouts, and Santana could see the work had already cut a little definition into the smooth curve of her belly. Her legs were a little stronger too.

She turned slightly, and pushed up onto her tiptoes, watched her profile in the mirror. The long muscles in her thighs and calves shifted and she liked the effect. She could see the beginnings of a super cute ass in the making, and resolved to try to hate Coach's sets of lunges and squats a little bit less.

She fell back down to her flat feet, turned back to face the mirror. She watched herself run a hand over her abdomen, up to her rib cage, and poke a little at the spaces between her ribs. Her boobs were still a problem.

She reached behind and unhooked the clasp of her bra and tossed it to the side. Her breasts were pale, the tan line from her favorite bikini top evident.

She chewed the inside of her lower lip. Her boobs were the same size at least; Courtney's were weirdly lopsided.

Santana scrunched her nose at her reflection. Not big enough.

She remembered Morgan demonstrating jumps for them that week, wearing only her sports bra and boy shorts.

Yeah…definitely not big enough.

The room was warmer now, steam curling out from behind the shower curtain. Santana slipped out of her spanx and socks and stuck a hand into the running water. She pulled back immediately, scalded.

She adjusted the temperature, checked again, then stepped in.

Santana was lathering her hair when Brittany came in a few minutes later. She couldn't see her through the opaque shower curtain, but she saw her shadow moving around the bathroom.

Brittany had changed into a tank top and loose drawstring pants. She laid a big, fluffy towel down on the closed toilet seat, in easy reach for Santana. She put Santana's boxers and a t-shirt on the counter, laid her toothbrush on top.

"I didn't find a shirt in your bag. I brought you one of mine."

Santana didn't say anything, busy rinsing the suds out of her long hair.

Brittany sank down, sat cross-legged on the bathmat in front of the sink, her back against the cabinets of the vanity.

"Finn and Quinn are cute. They should go out."

In the shower, Santana poured more shampoo out onto her hand. She lathered her hair a second time.

"Finn's a doofus. Quinn should go out with someone cool."

"Oh," Brittany picked at her cuticles. "Those guys we hooked up with tonight were cool." She looked up at Santana's outline behind the shower curtain. "Right?"

Santana finished rinsing her hair for the second time. "Yeah. Well. They're first string." She picked up what she thought was conditioner, but realized it was another bottle of shampoo. "Do you have conditioner?"

"Yep, wait." Brittany turned around and opened the cabinets under the sink. She sorted through a few bottles of body wash and shampoo, picked out a bottle of conditioner.

She stood up, moved closer, held the bottle out to Santana. Santana reached a wet arm out from behind the shower curtain to take it and dripped warm water on Brittany's bare feet.

Brittany moved back to the sink, stood in front of the fogged up mirror.

"That guy Harris asked me for my number."

Santana ran her fingers through her thick hair, working the conditioner all the way to the ends. Alex hadn't asked for her number, so she didn't say anything back.

Brittany wrote Santana's name in the mist on the mirror. She studied her handiwork,

then added hearts for decoration. "Do you think he'll ask me on a date? Like, a real date?"

Brittany suspected a high school date would be better than eighth grade dates had been. Eighth grade dates involved people's mom's dropping you off at the movie theater and were severely limited by how far you could stretch an eighth grade allowance.

Santana rinsed her hair a last time. "Of course he will, you're awesome."

Brittany shrugged. "There's a lot of pretty girls in Cheerios."

"We're the prettiest new girls."

"And Quinn." Brittany added.

"And Quinn." Santana couldn't deny that.

"Who do you think is the prettiest?"

"Of me, you and Quinn? You. Your eyes..." She stopped short, realizing her mistake. "You meant of the other girls."

Brittany leaned over the sink. With her index finger, she filled in one of the hearts she had drawn, revealing a larger patch of the mirror.

She leaned in close and looked into her own eyes. Blue and gold wove together close in by the iris, darkening to gray toward at the outer ring of the pupil. Brittany blinked and looked again, but she didn't see what Santana meant.

Brittany turned from the mirror, leaning back against the sink. "Yeah, the seniors and all. Morgan and Sarah-Ashley are so..."

Santana didn't hear the end of Brittany's sentence. She had closed her eyes and ducked her head back under the water. She thought of Sash's fingers on Morgan's hip. She pressed her own fingers there, on her own skin.

Her stomach jumped. But not like before, when she had been sick. Not like that at all.

Santana opened her eyes and moved to turn off the shower, then hesitated. She watched Brittany's shadow on the curtain. She stalled, tucked her chin in toward her chest, felt the warm water rain down on the back of her neck and shoulders.

Brittany hopped down off of the counter. "I'm gonna get a soda. Do you want anything?"

"I'm kind of hungry…but I don't …"

"Surprise snack!"

Santana grinned. "Ok, but nothing too gross."

Santana heard the door shut behind Brittany and turned off the water. She squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could, reached out for the towel and stepped out on to bathmat, wrapped it around herself.

She stood still for a minute, enjoying the lazy loose feeling of her body. She wondered how many sips from Alex's flask it would have taken to keep her in this zone of tipsy, how many made the giggling fits they'd had on the walk home, which sip was the one that had pushed her over into sloppy and sick.

Next time she'd try to count, find the formulas.

She patted her body dry and pulled on the shorts and t-shirt that Brittany had left. It was an old camp t-shirt of Brittany's, faded and soft, "Arden Lake" in red letters that had peeled and cracked and looked so hipster retro now.

"I'm totally stealing this" Santana said to her reflection.

On the mirror, she saw her own name, wreathed in hearts, melting in the fading fog.

* * *

In the kitchen, Brittany chugged half a can of Dr. Pepper, then got to work making Santana's snack. She pulled a bag of pretzel sticks out of the cabinet, poured some into a bowl. She rummaged through drawers until she found an unopened bag of peanut M&Ms, tore it open, dumped that on top of the pretzels. She stirred with her fingers.

"What else?"

Her eye fell on the bag of candy her mom had bought in preparation for Halloween.

"Ooh! Dots!"

A few minutes later, Santana padded into the kitchen but Brittany didn't notice; she was intent on her creation, garnishing the bowl with a few ridged potato chips.

Santan tiptoed up behind her, snuck an arm by Brittany's waist and snagged a chip out of the bowl.

"Hey! I was making that fancy!"

Santana reached around again and grabbed a handful this time. She picked out the Dots to save for later and chomped down on a mouthful of pretzels and chocolate. "Mmph."

Brittany turned around. Santana didn't step back. Their bare toes were close to touching.

"Are you still drunk?"

Santana swallowed. Brittany offered her a sip of Dr. Pepper and she took it.

"Just a tiny buzz now."

Brittany's loose pajama pants had slipped down below her belly button. Santana reached out until her thumb and forefinger grazed the skin at Brittany's hip, something between a pinch and a caress.

Brittany tilted her head but her expression didn't change. Her mouth was closed, her breathing even, her eyes steady on Santana's face. She brushed the toes of her right foot against Santana's left ankle.

"Let's watch The Little Mermaid."

They moved apart. Santana picked up the bowl of snacks, Brittany grabbed two more cans of Dr. Pepper.

They didn't talk again for some time. In the den, they settled down on the couch and Brittany pressed play on the DVR remote. Santana picked out the red Dots from the bowl and ate those. Prince Eric commented that it was a perfect day to be at sea.

Brittany realized that today – Cheerios, parties, boys – would be the new normal. "It's so weird that we know all these new people all of a sudden."

"Thank god. I was getting pretty sick of the old ones."

Santana put aside the candy for a minute and pulled a fleece blanket off the arm of the couch, unfolded it, offered Brittany one end.

Brittany pulled the blanket over her lap and moved closer to Santana. The part with the shark was coming.

It came. Brittany stifled a shriek and threw an arm around Santana's waist, buried her face in her shoulder.

Santana smelled like soap and sugar.

Brittany lifted her head a little, placed a quick kiss under Sanatana's chin.

"You're still my favorite."

* * *

In the morning, Anna found them in the den. Santana's drool had made a wet patch on Brittany's tank top.

Anna picked up the empty soda cans.

"Girls," she called softly. "Pancakes."

* * *

Next installment preview - still in 9th grade. Brittana rising up the social ranks, babysitting for Brittany's little sister. And kisses. Many many many kisses.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone! Back to the sleepovers! YEAH! Who doesn't love adorable Brittana sleepovers? Crazy people, that's who.

I know its a while between updates, but I am totally committed to continuing, do not fear. Keep reading, keep reviewing. Your feedback really encourages me to write. :)

* * *

**9th grade – December **

"Como te llamas?"

Brittany squinted at the page. Reading was hard enough in English.

She picked up a pencil, and hesitantly filled in her name. It was the right answer, but it was entirely a guess, based on the fact that this blank space was at the top of the page.

"Donde vives?"

Brittany put her pencil down.

She scanned the rest of the worksheet, then turned it over and tried to read the questions on the back too. She didn't find one that she could answer.

She pushed her chair a little further back from the desk, and crossed her legs on the seat. She turned the page back over and tried again.

"Que pides a Santa Claus por la Navidad?"

Brittany was sure about the Santa Claus part at least. She leaned over the desk and spent some time carefully drawing a Santa in the margin of the page. Quinn had showed her how to do a good one, but the eyes came out a little evil anyway.

Brittany shoved the paper away and stood up. She slid the elastic band out of her hair and teased her braid loose with her fingers. Her hair fell to her shoulders in blonde waves, still a little damp.

The bedroom door was ajar, but her mother knocked softly before pushing it open further.

"How's the homework coming sweetie?"

"Math was ok. But Spanish…"

It was rare to see a scowl that dark on Brittany's face. Anna moved closer and took a look at the work sheet on Brittany's desk. She could make out some of it, but not much more than Brittany. She had studied German in college.

"Maybe Santana can help you..."

Brittany shrugged. Santana actually took French. And when her parents spoke to her in Spanish, she always answered in English. But she still was better at Spanish than almost everyone in school. If Brittany asked nice enough, she'd probably do the homework in 2 minutes flat.

"Daddy's getting Chrissy into her pjs. I'm going to finish getting ready. We're leaving in about 20 minutes."

Brittany glanced at the digital clock by her bed. It was 7:15.

Anna turned and wrapped an arm around her daughter.

"You're doing a good job in school this year Brittany. Daddy and I are very proud of your grades this term."

Bs and Cs were a big improvement from the Ds in middle school. It took a lot of work from both of her parents and even some of her friends but strategies like color-coded notes and graphic organizers seemed to be helping Brittany a lot.

"You and I can double check the math tomorrow ok?"

Brittany nodded glumly into her mother's shoulder. She knew there would be mistakes, and hours of correcting them. She understood more about her trouble in school now, but it still sucked. Santana and Quinn and everyone would just dash off their assignments the night before they had to head back to school, but here she had to start her winter break homework the day after Christmas.

But her mother smelled nice, like the fancy new perfume Brittany and Chrissy had helped their dad pick out at the mall. Brittany relaxed into her hug and ended up smiling.

When her mother had gone, Brittany wandered over to the window. She watched a shiny red pickup truck pull up to the curb. She could make out Santana's dark hair through the passenger window.

Brittany had been in that truck last weekend. She wondered what Santana thought about the way John's lips tasted like menthol cigarettes, and if the door handle would leave the same kind of bruise on Santana's back.

* * *

The cab of the truck was chilly. John had the driver's side window down and Nickleback blaring on the stereo. On the ride over from the movie theater, he hadn't said a word, just kept his hand on Santana's thigh and drove. Santana had let the noise wash over her, pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, leaned her head back, ignored his clammy grip.

But now John was leaning closer, his cigarette smell crawling onto Santana's hair and clothes.

Santana swallowed, sat up and kissed back. She didn't say anything when his hand crept higher on her thigh, she didn't stop him from untying the belt of her coat and reaching up with his other hand to palm her breast through her cashmere sweater.

"You're soft." He mumbled against her lips, and pushed hard into her mouth with his tongue.

Santana had kissed enough by now to know John wasn't a great kisser, or even a very good one. But he was quarterback, and handsome, and going to Ohio State next year on a partial football scholarship.

He'd been working his way through the new girls on Cheerios since October. Santana was one of the last girls he asked out, she guessed because she was small and flat-chested and the opposite of blonde. That had made her angry and she had been determined to hold his attention for longer than anyone else had, to prove him wrong. Which is why she had snuggled up during the movie and after a little making out, reached down and stroked him through his jeans until he gasped.

Santana got tired of listening to them talk, but it was kinda fun, watching boys squirm.

After a few minutes of that he had to go to the bathroom to clean up.

When he slipped back into his seat, John had taken took a long look at Santana. This date was certainly different than most of the others he had had with the freshman girls. Most of them had been like Quinn, giggly and teasing, but not willing to do much more than hold hands. Brittany had been willing, but easily distracted by the movie she had chosen, some animated nonsense about a dog with superpowers. He studied Santana in the flickering light from the screen, then leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You a virgin?"

She had nodded, sipping her diet coke.

"Well you sure as fuck don't act like one."

Now, in the truck, he was leaning over her again. "My parents are heading out of town for New Year's…"

Santana pretended this was news to her.

"…I'll have the house. You should come over." John grinned, thinking he sounded studly.

It was what she had been expecting, but still, her throat went dry. She pressed her back against the door, and felt the handle dig into her spine.

"Yeah…ok. Yeah."

"Cool." John leaned back and unwrapped a stick of Big Red gum. He chewed, loudly. "I'll text you."

* * *

"Santana's here, Santana's here!"

Chrissy had watched from her bedroom window as Santana slid out of the truck's passenger seat and headed up the walkway. Before Santana had even reached the door, Chrissy had come barreling down the stairs, wearing only the bottom half of her pajamas, blonde hair still wet from her bath.

Tom swallowed a swear and chased after his daughter, her pajama top in one hand, a hairbrush in the other.

Chrissy flung the door wide before Santana had a chance to knock.

"Hi! Hi! You have to see what Santa brought me!" Chrissy reached for Santana's hand and tugged.

Santana grinned and let herself be pulled inside. Behind Chrissy, she could see Tom making his way down the stairs two at a time, his tie askew, stocking feet slipping on the smooth wood. He met Santana's eyes, smiled, waved the tiny t-shirt in his hand and mouthed "Help me."

Santana closed the door behind her and took off her coat. Immediately, the warmth of the house settled around her, driving the chill of John's truck from her skin.

Chrissy was hopping from foot to foot, eluding Tom's attempts to get the shirt over her head.

"C'mon, c'mon! Come see my toys!"

"OK, but only after you put your shirt on."

Chrissy stopped jumping, plucked the shirt from her dad's hands and wriggled into it in seconds.

"And brush your hair."

Chrissy rolled her eyes, but she stayed still, and motioned for her dad to brush.

"Actually, can you help her out with that Santana?" Tom held the brush out and Santana took it. "I have to finish getting ready or Anna's gonna..."

"I'm gonna what?"

Tom turned toward his wife's voice to answer. At the sight of her, his witty retort died on his lips.

She was wearing a rather simple cocktail dress, midnight blue, knee length. But the dress was fitted, the fabric hugging every curve, revealing that even after two kids, she still had a dancer's lithe body. The short sleeves of the dress were off-the-shoulder, the neckline just below her clavicle. Tom's eye's lingered on the delicate curve of his wife's neck and a soft "wow" tumbled out of his mouth.

Santana followed his gaze. Her first thought was that Puck, with his MILF fixation, would fucking die if he saw Brittany's mom looking like this. Her second thought was that even though Anna's hair was honey-brown instead of blonde and her eyes a darker blue, she looked an awful lot like Brittany. A blush sprang to Santana's cheeks and she bit her bottom lip before she could say anything.

Chrissy's face lit up when she saw her mother. She put two fingers in her mouth and wolf whistled.

Anna laughed and came the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Chrissy, who taught you that? "

"Uncle Teddy. He said it's the international sign for pretty ladies."

"Ignore everything your uncle says." Anna turned to Santana. "Hey sweetie. Merry day-after-Christmas!" She took Santana's coat and pulled her into a hug.

Santana accepted the hug awkwardly, not sure where to put her hands, the flush in her cheeks deepening.

"Um. Merry Christmas."

Chrissy was tugging at the hem of Santana's skirt. "C'mon, brush my hair so we can **play.**"

Anna went to hang up Santana's coat in the hall closet. "Don't be so impatient Chrissy," she called over her shoulder. "Santana's going to be here with you all night. You'll have plenty of time to play."

But Santana let Chrissy lead her to the couch, and started working through the snarls in her hair.

Tom snuck up behind his wife, dropped a kiss on her shoulder and hurried off to finish dressing.

Anna joined Chrissy and Santana in the living room. "How are your parents Santana? You have a nice holiday?"

Santana thought about the quiet Christmas morning at her house yesterday. Her dad had built a fire in the fireplace. After they had eaten the unnecessarily complicated breakfast that her mom made, she and her parents had exchanged gifts. Then, they had sat around the fire, sipping second cups of coffee and messing around with their new phones and laptops. It had been cozy, in a way. But in another way, it was just boring.

"Yeah. Yes. We had a nice time."

"Is J.P. home?"

"He's at his mom's house for Christmas. I think he'll come see us after New Year's. Before he goes back to school. "

Santana wished her half-brother had come for Christmas. J.P. was loud and funny and would play the guitar while she sang. When he was around, the house wasn't so deadly quiet and even their dad cracked a few smiles. But now that he was almost done with college, he visited a lot less often than he used to.

"Well, bring him by when he comes. Its fun for Tom to play the guitar with someone as good as J.P. is." Anna leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Plus, I think Brittany has a little crush on him."

"Uh...sure. Maybe. I'll try." Brittany did have a crush on J.P., more than a little. Santana thought it was gross, bordering on incestuous. She had given up trying to explain the word "incestuous" to Brittany, but she still didn't love the idea of them all hanging out together.

Santana ducked her head and concentrated on working gently through a tangle in Chrissy's hair.

"Let me get Brittany, and I'll show you everything you need to know for tonight."

Anna walked back over to the foot of the stairs.

"Brit...", she started to call, but Brittany appeared at the top of the stairs before she could finish. "Oh. There you are."

"I was changing."

Brittany had traded her sweats and t-shirt for one of the new outfits that Santa had brought – black skinny jeans, and a soft, slouchy grey sweater with thin horizontal black stripes. Her feet were bare, but her toes sparkled with a coat of her new silver glitter nail polish.

Santana had finished brushing Chrissy's hair and was messing around, trying to do a French braid when Brittany and Anna returned to the living room.

"Hey."

Santana looked up and immediately broke into a smile. "Are those the new jeans? You look awesome."

Brittany nodded and bounced over to Santana. She reached out to touch the silver pendant around Santana's neck "Is that the necklace your dad gave you?"

Chrissy could see where this conversation was headed, flopped back against the couch and rolled her eyes, "Nooooo…You said we could play."

"Hang on a second everyone." Anna interrupted. "Chris, if you want to go play, go ahead, but I have to talk to Brittany and Santana."

"No, I'll wait." Chrissy climbed into Santana's lap and Brittany joined them on the sofa. All three of them looked at Anna expectantly.

"Ok. Here's the invitation for the party where Daddy and I will be." She handed it to Brittany, who handed it to Santana.

"The number and address are on there, and of course we'll have our cell phones on. It's almost an hour drive though, so if it's a real emergency, call 911 and then call a neighbor. Carole Hudson said she'd be home tonight if you need anything. "

"Don't worry mom." Chrissy piped up. "Britty and San are like, grown up now. They can take care of me."

Santana squeezed Chrissy tight. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Anna studied the girls. Brittany did look older in her new clothes, her legs impossibly long. And Santana had a decidedly un-little-girl-like hickey that she was trying to hide under her long hair.

"I'm sure you can all take good care of each other." Anna looked toward the stairs. "Where is your…"

On cue, Tom's voice floated down from upstairs. "I'm coming babe. I swear."

Anna went to the hall closet to get their coats.

"Did you eat Santana?" she called from the hallway.

"Yeah." She had poked at a salad while John scarfed a burger before the movie.

"Well, there's plenty of dessert when you girls want it."

Anna came back, her coat buttoned, Tom's slung over her arm.

"Chrissy, you listen to Brittany and Santana."

"Yeah Chis, we're the anomalies tonight."

Everyone in the room knew Brittany meant authorities, so no one corrected her.

"When they say it's bedtime, it's bedtime."

Chrissy nodded at her mother, but the hard set of her mouth gave Santana the suspicion that she and Brittany were in for some trouble later on.

Tom came down he stairs and this time his shoes were on, his shirt tucked in, his tie tied, his jacket buttoned.

"Ready?"

"Am _I_ ready?" Anna swatted at his arm and handed him his coat.

"Come kiss us goodbye."

Chrissy slid off Santana's lap and ran to her father. He picked her up in a fierce hug, and she squirmed around in his arms so she could lean over and kiss her mother.

Brittany hugged her mother, stood on tiptoe to reach her father's cheek.

Santana stayed on the couch, smoothed her skirt down over her thighs.

"Group hug!"

Santana looked up and saw Brittany beckoning.

She shifted uncomfortably. There was a lot less hugging at her house.

"C'mon San."

"C'mon San." Chrissy echoed.

"C'mon San." Anna and Tom chorused.

Santana could help grinning then. She crossed the room and let Brittany pull her into the family hug. She felt Brittany's soft sweater against her check, smelled Anna's perfume and lipstick, felt Tom's hand mussing her hair, Chrissy's foot digging into her ribs.

"Bye sweeties."

"Bye Mama, bye Daddy."

"Be good. Be careful. Lock up!"

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

Brittany locked the door and Santana double checked it. Everything was suddenly quiet and still.

Chrissy grabbed Brittany's hand with her left and Santana's with her right and pulled them toward the playroom. "You **_have_** to play with me now."

* * *

An hour later, the playroom was a mess, and Chrissy was deliriously happy. They had played Candy Land, built layer cakes out of Play Doh, and set up the new Cris-Cross-Crash track for Chrissy's Matchbox cars.

Santana sent one car and then another flying around the track and waited for the crash. She looked quickly over at Brittany, who was sitting at the little playroom table, on a chair that was much too small.

"I can't lie, this is awesome."

Brittany nodded, but didn't look up, intent on the page she was working on in Chrissy's new Disney Princess coloring book.

The cars went smash and Chrissy collapsed into giggles.

"Again!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Santana!"

"I mean, heck yeah."

Brittany looked up at the clock. It was almost 9. "Maybe it's bedtime soon Chris."

"Maybe it's not Britty."

Santana stayed out of it and sent the cars racing again.

"Anyway, Mama said we could have dessert."

"Ok. I'll finish this. Then dessert. Then bedtime."

The cars smashed again, and Chrissy and Santana high fived.

While Santana set it up again, Chrissy got up and went to Brittany, slung an arm over her shoulder.

"You're good at coloring."

She was good at coloring. She had chosen a picture of Belle and the Beast. Belle's dress and the Beast's fur were carefully shaded in, using multiple crayon colors to give depth and warmth to the picture.

"Give it to Santana."

"I was gonna. Can I tear this out?"

Chrissy nodded.

Brittany carefully tore the page from the coloring book, trying hard not to leave any ragged edges.

She picked up a purple crayon and wrote "For San. Cause you act growly but your not. XO -B."

"Put me too."

"You do it." Brittany handed her sister the crayon and Chrissy added a shaky "C" next to Brittany's B.

"Santana!"

Santana looked up from the toy cars and took the drawing Chrissy was holding out to her.

"Awww. Thank you Chrissy."

Santana got to her knees and drew Chrissy into a hug. Chrissy plopped a sloppy, wet kiss on Santana's check. Santana blew a raspberry into the little girl's neck, and Chrissy squirmed and shrieked with laughter.

"Britty too. Cause she colored it."

Santana made her way over to Brittany, still on her knees. "Thank you Brittany." She placed a chaste kiss on Brittany's cheek. But Brittany lunged and blew a raspberry on Santana's neck, just where John had left a bite mark earlier that afternoon.

Santana's hair slid over Brittany's cheek, brushed at the corners of her mouth. Santana smelled only a little like John's cigarettes now. Mostly, Brittany smelled the candy cane Santana had grabbed off the Christmas tree and crunched on while they played Candy Land.

Santana felt the buzz of Brittany's lips on her skin. It wasn't exactly a new sensation, but her response was stronger than usual. Instead of a lively, warm feeling, Brittany being so close made her felt tense and hot.

Brittany felt Santana stiffen and looked at her, a question in her eyes. But Santana didn't meet her gaze.

She stood up and swung Chrissy up into her arms. "C'mon, lets have dessert."

Santana turned back to the Matchbox cars. "I'm gonna do one more crash."

* * *

It was three more crashes before Santana joined them in the kitchen. They were sitting at the table, Brittany on one of the long sides, Chrissy in her dad's usual place at the head. Brittany had cut herself a slice of leftover pumpkin pie, piled a scoop of vanilla ice cream and some homemade whipped cream on top of it, and dusted it with cinnamon because she liked to make her food look pretty. Chrissy had a plate full of different kinds of cookies. She was happily alternating bites among each of the different types.

Santana sat next to Brittany, leaned over and slid the spoon from her hand. She helped herself to a bite of Brittany's dessert.

Brittany let her, glad to see that whatever had been bothering Santana in the playroom had passed.

"You want me to make you one?"

"Nope." Santana kept eating from Brittany's plate.

"Well, get a spoon then."

"Nope." Santana carefully arranged the ratios of pie, ice cream and whipped cream into a perfect bite, then popped it in her mouth.

Brittany bumped Santana with her shoulder and grabbed her spoon back.

"How was your date?"

Santana shrugged and reached for the spoon again. But Brittany was too fast for her. So she just stuck her finger in the whipped cream, licked it off.

"What do you do on a date?" Chrissy carefully separated the sides of a mini Lindzer tart and licked the jelly.

"You know what a date is Chrissy. You go somewhere fun with a guy. The movies or mini golf. You know."

"And the guy has to pay for everything." Santana added. She stuck her finger in the whipped cream again and this time, swiped it onto the tip of Brittany's nose.

Brittany stuck her tongue out at Santana and got up to get a napkin.

Santana snatched up the spoon and took a big bite of pie.

"I know that. But what do you **do**? Really?" Chrissy kicked her legs for emphasis, and accidentally connected with Santana's leg.

"Ow, Chris. " Santana put the spoon down and bent to rub her shin.

Brittany slid back into her seat and reclaimed her spoon. "You just hang out. Talk. Get food."

Chrissy scowled and bit the head off a gingerbread man. "But that's just regular stuff."

"Yeah, but if you do it with someone you really like, it's…different."

"So it's only really a date if you really like the person?"

"Right." Brittany saved Santana the last bite and handed over the spoon.

Santana didn't think so, at all. She and John had run into Morgan and Nate at the movie theater. Morgan didn't look like she really liked Nate. In fact, she'd looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. Even while they talked, she kept texting, and Santana knew she had been texting Sash.

But she didn't mention it. Chrissy would just have more questions.

"What about kissing?"

"What about it?"

"Do you have to do kissing for it to be a date?"

"Yeah." Brittany looked at Santana for confirmation. "Right?"

"Definitely." Santana did not count Quinn and Finn's little hand holding expeditions as dates.

Santana got up and took the spoon and plate to the sink. She rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher.

Brittany handed Chrissy a napkin. "It's 9:30. Way past your bedtime."

"I know." Chrissy grinned and slid off the chair. "Let's do a pillow fort."

Santana watched her run off toward the living room. "She kinda has good ideas."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm already well into writing the second half of this sleepover...so stay tuned. :) and as promised, there will be kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi, hi! Everyone's been very patient with me and my sllllllooooow updating schedule. I promise there's pay off here in the form of sweet lady kisses. :) Also, a lot of people have commented that they liked Morgan and Sash and want to see some more about how their...relationship...might inform Brittany and Santana's. I really liked that idea, I'm integrating it into the next chapter.

A little recap for those who might be new to the story, or to those who haven't checked in for a while - The story tracks sleepovers that Brittany and Santana have from 8th grade on, investigating how their relationship grows to be as interesting and complicated as it is by the time we meet them on Glee. This is 9th grade, just after Christmas. Brittany and Santana are babysitting for Brittany's little sister, and also, being totally obsessed with each other.

* * *

Brittany handed Chrissy a napkin. "It's 9:30. Way past your bedtime."

"I know." Chrissy grinned and slid off the chair. "Let's do a pillow fort."

Santana watched her run off toward the living room. "She kinda has good ideas."

Brittany tossed the remnants of Chrissy's cookies in the trash.

"How was it really?" Brittany knew how long Santana had been waiting for her chance with John.

"We hooked up. At the movies."

"Made out, or like, hooked up-hooked up?"

"Hooked up." A sly smile crept onto Santana's face. "He was totally into it.

"You're bad."

"Kinda good actually. He invited me over next weekend, when his parents are away."

Brittany slid Chrissy's plate into the dishwasher and contemplated the implications of Santana's statement.

Brittany had trouble with reading and Brittany had trouble with math, but Brittany didn't have trouble with people. People liked her. They liked her shiny hair and her pretty eyes and the easy way she did no-hands cartwheels on the grass at lunchtime. And she liked most people. In fact, thus far in her high school career, she had gotten a reputation as a girl from whom it was easy to get a date, even easier to get a kiss. Brittany made out with the boys who asked because she liked kissing, liked being close to people and learning about their bodies. It was a much easier way for her to get to know people than talking, when her words came out wrong and the confused looks or snickers that came back her way made her mind rush and her ears burn.

Making out had taught her a lot about the boys she knew. Not all of their bodies matched the way they talked and acted at school or at parties. She had learned that Harris was a braggart but unimaginative, that Finn's body was grown but his mind was boyish, that Mike Chang was bad at math like her, but a genius at the geometries of the body. Making out had taught her that Noah was really a little sad and lonely, the way he always reached out first and held on longer.

Last week, after their movie date, John had driven them to the empty middle school parking lot and Brittany had happily submitted to his kisses in his truck. But up close, John's handsome face revealed hard angles. He pretended to be playing, but he bit too hard and pushed against her until could hardly breathe. She had squirmed and tried to twist away and been glad when a teacher working late had shooed them out of the parking lot and John had brought her home. She had learned that John thought freshman girls were easy to bend, and fun to try to break.

Brittany never mentioned any of these conclusions. People were made of contradictory, complicated ideas, and she didn't know the words and she didn't see the point. If she could find the people who were fun and tasty, she could avoid the ones who were grasping and mean, then that was enough, for 9th grade at least.

But Santana, for all her scheming and strategy, didn't think about other people's motives nearly enough.

It wasn't easy to say it. Santana was always convinced that her ideas were the best ones, used to her daddy's approval and her mother's indifference and Brittany's undying affection. She didn't accept help, and she didn't like commentary. Brittany knew that suggesting Santana's idea might be a bad one could unleash a storm that would put an end to their cozy evening.

Still, Brittany thought, John had squeezed her way too hard.

"San. Maybe you shouldn't…"

She was interrupted by a loud thump from the living room.

Brittany's eyes went wide. "Chrissy?" She was all the way across the kitchen in two big strides. "Chris?"

Chrissy's voice came back to them, subdued but unharmed. "I'm ok."

Brittany was in the living room in seconds, Santana right behind her.

Chrissy was fine, standing in front of piles of cushions that had been taken from the couch and loveseat. The thump had clearly come from the ottoman, which was lying on its side, one of its little feet missing.

Chrissy came over and leaned against Brittany, looked up at her. "I'm sorry." She rubbed her eyes. "It was slippy."

Brittany rubbed her sister's back, saw her stifle a yawn. She looked at the missing foot on the ottoman and bit her lip.

But Santana was already down on the floor, searching under the coffee table for the missing foot.

"Got it."

She studied the foot and then scooted over to see how it had attached to the ottoman.

"Oh, we can just screw this back on. It might be wobbly but…"

Santana knelt, bent over the ottoman to reattach the piece. Brittany knelt behind her and threw her arms around her.

"You're the best."

"I know."

Brittany laughed and squeezed harder, snuggling against Santana's cashmere sweater.

"You're soft."

Santana remembered John's voice saying the exact same thing a few hours ago.

Brittany didn't move and Santana didn't want her to.

"Can you guys stop cuddling and do the fort?" Chrissy had climbed back into the pile of pillows and was trying to get one wall to stay up.

Brittany squeezed Santana one more time, then got up and went to help Chrissy. Santana finished screwing in the foot of the ottoman and set it on its side, pushed it over to serve as a support for the left wall of the fort. Brittany helped Chrissy move the couch cushions into a more stable arrangement on the right side.

"Let's use the coffee table for like, the door. It'll hold up the sides, and help make a roof too."

Chrissy watched Santana execute her plan, her eyes shining with unabashed admiration.

Santana beamed. Recognition was recognition, regardless of the age of the person who acknowledged she was awesome.

Brittany knew a thing or two about pillow forts herself. "We need blankets for a roof."

"I'll get 'em!"

"Ok Chris. You can get the sheets and quilts from my room and yours too. But be careful ok?"

Chrissy skipped off up the stairs. Within a few minutes she was coming back down the stairs with Brittany's bedding. She struggled and swayed beneath the weight.

"Need some help?" Santana asked.

"No."

Santana went over and took the heaviest quilt off the pile anyway.

"I said NO." Chrissy insisted.

Brittany chided her sister from inside the walls of the fort. "Don't be mean just 'cause you're tired."

"Am not."

But she couldn't hold back the yawn that came next.

Before Brittany could say anything else, Chrissy darted back upstairs for more blankets.

For a few minutes Brittany and Santana worked hard on the finishing touches of the fort, reinforcing walls, trying to create the largest possible square footage that was stable. Brittany got two of the small playroom chairs and placed them back to back on top of the coffee table. When she draped blankets over them, it created a tent-like effect for the roof.

"I approve." Santana said, clapping her hands softly.

"Chrissy doesn't even need to bring more sheets and stuff."

"Yeah, where is she anyway?"

Brittany went upstairs to check and found Chrissy in the hall outside her bedroom, curled up on a pile of blankets.

She knelt beside her. "Hey Chris," she whispered softly. "Let's get you in bed."

Chrissy opened her eyes. "I'm coming down."

"Ok sleepy."

"Its just cozy."

"I know." Brittany stayed beside her, stroking her back in small, soothing circles.

Chrissy's eyelids slowly lowered, and Brittany gathered her up, blankets and all, and carried her down the hall to her own room. She placed her on the bed, still in the nest of blankets.

Brittany was trying to tiptoe out when Chrissy's eyes fluttered open again "The fort." She struggled to get up.

"We'll leave it up. We can play tomorrow."

Chrissy snuggled deeper into the blankets. "Promise?"

"Pinky promise." Brittany locked her pinky with Chrissy's smaller one and Chrissy relaxed into sleep, knowing Brittany would never break a promise like that.

Brittany waited a few more minutes, until she was sure her sister was asleep.

Back in the living room, Santana had finished the roof and crawled into the fort. She heard Brittany on the stairs and poked her head out.

"Where's Chris?"

"She passed out."

Santana's face fell.

"Oh. I guess we should…"

Santana didn't really want to say it. "…put this back."

"I told her we'd leave it up for tomorrow."

Brittany watched a smile spread on Santana's face and liked it, because it wasn't one of those fake smiles she shot at Quinn, or the sly smiles she tossed the boys, or the good girl, tight lipped grin she gave teachers and parents. This smile was real San, all cheeks and teeth.

"Brits?"

Brittany realized she was staring.

"You're coming in here right?"

She didn't answer, just walked over and crawled in, flattening herself to fit under the coffee table at the fort's entrance.

Santana scooted around and lay down, making room for Brittany. It was warm and close inside the fort, so she had taken her sweater off, just had her tanktop on. She lay with her head on a stack of pillows that she had propped against the front side of the couch, her bare arms folded across her stomach. She was short enough so that she could lay with her legs straight out. When Brittany lay next to her, her legs were too long to fit, she had to bend her knees.

They lay shoulder to shoulder, looking up at Brittany's pink bed sheets, neither one feeling much need to move, or speak.

Brittany thought some more about Santana going over to John's house. Without his parents there they'd raid the liquor cabinet. Santana was still a sloppy drunk. She'd be pliant, then sick. John probably wouldn't care about the sick.

"San?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe…maybe you shouldn't go to John's house."

Santana let the words settle in the silence. Coming from Quinn the same sentence would have sounded like church bossiness. Coming from Brittany, the words were warm, appealing.

But that didn't change anything. "I said I would go."

"Are you gonna..."

"I guess, if he wants to, we will."

Brittany stretched out her fingers and found Santana's hand.

They lay quiet for another long while, so long that Santana thought maybe Brittany was asleep. But then she felt Brittany shift, slide fingertips gently down the length of her fingers and back up.

Santana let Brittany bump and bend her fingers. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep. She wanted to live forever with Brittany in a pillow fort.

Now Brittany was tickling her arm, up to the elbow.

"Brit."

Santana squirmed. She took her hand from Brittany's and turned toward her, tucking her arm beneath herself.

Brittany mirrored Santana's actions, turned so they were facing each other. She slid her hand along the smooth skin of Santana's arm, up to her shoulder, ran her nails gently back down.

"Brit." Santana squirmed again, but Brittany didn't let her arm go.

"You've got muscles now."

Santana pressed her toes down against the top of Brittany's foot. "You're still stronger."

Brittany pressed Santana's nose with the tip of her own.

"You always wear makeup now too."

"I just want to be pretty."

Santana's t's and p's and b's were small explosions against Brittany's mouth.

Santana lowered her eyes, and Brittany liked it so much, the way her dark lashes lay against her cheeks.

Brittany thought she knew Santana's secrets. But now, so close, she could feel something nameless and new under her skin, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

She brushed her mouth against Santana's, not quite a kiss. A touch. Like the way Santana had traced her thumb over the outline of a bruise on Brittany's knee after practice last Wednesday - light, gentle, mapping.

Santana didn't breathe. Her eyes fluttered open. She tried to speak.

"Shh…" Brittany hushed her. "You're telling me new secrets."

Brittany pushed closer, a hand on Santana's hip now, a hard kiss on her closed mouth.

Santana breathed out - a sigh, a small sound at the back of her throat, like a knot in her had come untied.

Brittany kissed again, this time catching Santana's bottom lip.

Santana knew her own secret now. She had thought about this. She knew what she wanted to do. So she did it. She slipped her tongue against Brittany's top lip, tasted cinnamon from dessert.

Brittany smiled against Santana's mouth. This was exciting. She experimented, bit down on Santana's lip.

"Ow."

Santana pulled back, not far. "That hurt."

"Sorry." Some people liked bites.

Brittany ran her thumb over Santana's bottom lip, smearing what was left of her lipstick. She leaned in and peppered small kisses along her lip and chin.

"Better?"

Santana nodded. She couldn't quite speak.

Brittany nuzzled Santana's cheek, rubbing her nose over the soft curves of her face, placing soft kisses at the corner of her mouth. One. Two. Three.

And then Santana turned her head slightly, caught Brittany's open mouth with her own. For the first time, Santana really kissed Brittany, lightly sucking, teasing with her tongue.

It was Brittany's turn to be a little breathless.

Santana pulled back a little, watched Brittany, saw something new sparking across the familiar skies of her eyes.

Brittany tightened her grip on Santana's hip, and somehow they were closer still.

"You're a good kisser San."

Santana grinned. "Told you."

Brittany leaned in again, bringing her mouth to Santana's with more force and purpose. Her tongue was stroking Santana's in seconds.

Santana responded eagerly, fluttering the tip of her tongue against the inside of Brittany's top lip. The rhythm made Brittany's heart race and her hips surge against Santana's.

Santana gave at the pressure. Her soft warm body poured against Brittany's like a liquid, and now she was on top of her, their legs tangling together, her hands sliding into Brittany's hair, keeping Brittany's mouth pressed against her own.

Santana kissed Brittany until her head swam.

When they parted, they were both short of breath. Even in the dim fort, Santana could see the flush in Brittany's cheeks, at the tips of her ears.

She kissed the blush at Brittany's left ear. And now her cheek. Back to Brittany's mouth, wanting more of the way she tasted, sucking gently on her tongue to get it.

Brittany let her mouth go loose and lazy for Santana to explore. But her hands went roaming, tickling the soft skin behind Santana's knees, dragging her nails up the backs of Santana's thighs.

The sensation sent a delicious shiver over Santana's skin. Goosebumps rose on her arms, legs, neck.

Brittany let her fingers linger on Santana's thighs, stroking over silky skin. She kissed her way her chin, brought her mouth to Santana's neck. She bit gently, bit again, sucked hard.

"Ohh…" The sound was unexpectedly loud. Santana realized it had come from her.

Brittany giggled into Santana's neck.

"Oh yeah?"

Santana sat up, her head brushing the roof of blankets. She sat back on her heels, pushed the hem of Brittany's sweater up a few inches, exposing a strip of luminous skin.

She trailed her fingertips across Brittany's belly, down to her left side, her most ticklish side. She idly traced a pattern with her fingers, watched Brittany try not to laugh. Then she bent her head, brought her mouth to the same spot, flicked the tip of he tongue against the sensitive skin there.

"Ohhh…"

"Mmmhmm." Santana hummed against Brittany's body.

"Come back." Brittany wanted more kisses.

Careful of the walls of the fort, Santana wriggled around until she was lying next to Brittany again.

Brittany propped herself up on one elbow, looked at Santana. Her lipstick had been kissed off, her mascara was smudged, her hair was curling in the warm, moist air.

"You _are_ pretty."

Brittany's intense gaze made Santana blush and shift, a tightness clench at her lungs. But now that they had done this already, it was easy to reach out, pull her closer, find her mouth, kiss and breathe again.

They kissed until their lips were buzzing and their skin hummed. Careful kisses at earlobes, and gentle licks at the corners of each other's mouths; nibbles on each other's lips that led to sloppy, lingering kisses with tongue. Brittany sucked on Santana's fingers, Santana left sucking bites spangled across Brittany's collarbone.

They kissed until they found the taste of themselves on each other's mouths.

They kissed until forever, and fell asleep, still spilling secrets at each other's lips.

* * *

Santana awoke to the sound of a key in the door, a short burst of laughter from Brittany's mother as they came in from the cold.

Her stomach clenched. She just wanted to hide and hide and hide. But this was their living room. She suspected they'd find her.

Brittany was sleeping curled into Santana's side, her head pillowed on Santana's shoulder.

Santana reached down and brushed a lock of blonde hair from Brittany's face.

"Brit. Your parents are home."

Brittany, as usual, was awake immediately. She smiled at Santana, pulled her close for a quick kiss. Before Santana could react, she was crawling out of the fort.

"Hi Mama. Hi Daddy."

Santana followed more slowly. She pulled her sweater on. At least she could hide the bite marks Brittany had left on her shoulders.

Brittany was standing in the darkened hall, whispering with her parents. Santana noticed that she had strategically placed herself in front of the light switch. She grinned to herself. Brittany wasn't dumb at all.

"…kind of a pain about bedtime, but it was fine. I had to promise her we'd leave the fort up though. In the living room."

"Oh, that's fine." Anna waved a lazy hand through the air, and swayed a little against her husband. Tom wrapped a hand around her waist to steady her.

Santana ran a hand through her wild hair and edged a little closer. Brittany saw her, and reached out for her hand.

"We're sleepy now though. Goodnight."

Brittany pulled her up the stairs, two at a time.

Tom wandered into the living room. "Nice fort."

Anna hiccupped and headed for the stairs. "Mmmm. Bring me two advil and some water babe?"

"You got it."

* * *

Brittany and Santana sprinted down the hall, dashed into Brittany's room. They closed the door behind them and collapsed into giggles. Nothing was funny but everything was sort of hilarious.

Santana sank down on the bed, realized there was only a fitted sheet.

"Fuckers. All the pillows and shit are downstairs."

"There's some extras in the hall closet."

"I'll get them. I have to pee."

Santana stepped into the hallway, saw Anna slipping in to Chrissy's room to check on her. She headed in the other direction, toward the hall bathroom.

Inside, she turned on the light and got a good look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, and a new hickey bloomed on the other side of her neck, but even she had to admit, she looked kind of sexy. Her lips were swollen from Brittany's kisses, her eyes were large and gorgeous. She leaned in to look more closely at herself, smiled at her reflection.

But alone in the mirror in the middle of the night was one thing. Real life was another thing entirely. She bit her lip. For the first time ever, she wondered what to say to Brittany.

But she was too tired, her body too relaxed to think hard. After a few minutes, she headed back to the bedroom, grabbing a blanket and a pillow from the linen closet along the way.

Brittany was sitting cross-legged on her bed. She had changed into sweats and a tank top.

Santana tossed her the blanket, and turned to find her own pajamas. She realized she'd have to change, right there, in front of Brittany, and moved more slowly.

Brittany finished spreading the blanket over the bed.

"Can you help me with Spanish tomorrow?"

Santana pulled her sweater over her head, figured she could just sleep in this tanktop.

"Yeah, of course, I'll do it for you."

She fiddled with the zipper on her skirt, realized she was just being silly. She pushed the skirt down off her hips, pulled her shorts on. She realized she had put them on backwards, had to stand for a minute in her panties while she fixed them. When she looked up, she found Brittany's eyes were on her.

"Come to bed."

She padded slowly over to the bed, slipped under the blanket. It was cold without sheets and a quilt, uncomfortable with only one pillow. But Brittany was warm. Santana slid her hands under Brittany's tank top, touching her palms to Brittany's abdomen.

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana.

"Don't worry so much."

"I wasn't…"

"Yes you were."

"It's just…we can't…everyone…" Santana's voice rose to a panicky pitch.

"Fuck everyone."

Santana was shocked. Brittany never cursed, ever.

Brittany took advantage of Santana's speechlessness, pressed a hard kiss against her open mouth, kissed until they were both trembling. She pulled Santana on top of her, her thigh sliding up to fit perfectly between Santana's. They were still for a second, then moved together, the friction of their clothes both a frustration and part of their delight. They were keyed up and humming already, it only took a few seconds. Santana crashed first, jolting against Brittany, a hard thrust that sent her over the edge too.

Santana had fallen forward, against Brittany's neck. She licked it. Brittany was salty.

Brittany tightened her arms around Santana and said what she knew Santana needed to hear.

"Don't worry. We're a secret."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hey everyone! Sleepover awesomeness! This is kinda just a short teaser lead-in to the bulk of this next chapter in the story, but people have been asking what's up and being so nice with reviews and recs, so I figured I'd put this up early, and your lovely feedback will, as always, spur me on to hurry and finish the rest of it. I'm already part way through it, and I PROMISE it won't take too long. I promise. **

**As before, there's a gap of months between chapters. Which means some things are left hanging for the moment. (Did San go to that dude's house or what?) But remain faithful, all will eventually be revealed. **

* * *

**May – Freshman year**

"….barely escaped with my life, clutching the original Bill of Rights in my teeth. As a result of my heroic actions, shortly thereafter, Bill Clinton became president. Hillary still owes me a lock of her hair."

The Cheerios sat quietly. No one dared betray the slightest hint of confusion.

"Let that be an inspiration to all of you. Never give up, even if it means dislocating a few joints. That's the attitude that will win us Nationals. I'll see you on the bus tomorrow."

Sue turned on her heel and left the gym.

Morgan waited until the girls had blinked away their bewilderment before she stood up and took Sue's place in front of the squad.

"Sash has something to say."

Sash bounced up from her seat on the bottom riser, stood next to Morgan and gave the Cheerios a bright smile.

Quinn wondered if Sash's teeth were just naturally that perfect or if she had ever had braces.

'If an awesome unicorn were a person, it would look like Sash.' Brittany decided.

It was kind of true. Sash had long, wavy hair, lighter blonde than Brittany's. Her eyes were surprising: almost amber, sometimes gold.

All of the Cheerios smiled back, and more than one of them sighed.

"…annual pre-Nationals sleepover and it's gonna be SO much fun!" Sash was a natural cheerleader, bubbling with enthusiasm and genuine high spirits

"So everyone should be over at my house by 7, with your bags for Nationals. The bus will pick us up there in the morning. Oh, and if anyone's got any food allergies can you remind me? My mom ordered a ton of stuff and I don't wanna accidentally kill anyone."

Morgan caught her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down to hide her growing grin. Sash was adorable, even when she talked about killing people.

Sash nudged Morgan with her hip and Morgan looked up to find the team waiting expectantly for her to speak.

"Oh. Yeah. Practice dismissed. See you guys tonight. Be ready to B-O-N-D, BOND." Morgan's eyes were innocent, but there was sarcasm in her voice.

The team stood up, girls filed off the risers.

"Quinn. Lopez," Morgan called out. Sash nudged her again. "Brittany too. Wait."

The three freshmen dropped their bags and sank back down onto the second row of bleachers.

Quinn's gaze was steady, curious. But Santana fidgeted nervously, fingers picking at the pleats in her skirt. Brittany reached over, linked her pinky through Santana's. It helped.

Sash sat down on the riser below them, sitting sideways, cross-legged. Morgan stepped closer but stayed standing. She settled into the "at-ease" pose that Coach insisted on, feet apart, hands clasped behind her back.

She waited a few moments for the gym to clear out, keeping her eyes on the three girls in front of her the entire time. Santana had always thought Morgan's gray eyes were pretty. But up close, they revealed a poisonous greenish tint.

When the gym was quiet, the rest of the team safely in the locker room, Morgan began her carefully rehearsed speech.

"McKinley, like all high schools, operates under a rigid social structure. Everyone has their niche…"

Brittany cocked her head, confused. She raised her hand, the one that wasn't holding Santana's.

Sash understood, tapped Brittany on the knee. "She means like, here at school, everyone's got a place. A job, a thing they do best, a thing they're known for."

"Like houses at Hogwarts." Quinn added.

Brittany nodded.

Sash turned to Morgan. "C'mon, stop scaring them. Talk normal."

Morgan rolled her eyes. But Sash pouted and she gave in, relaxed her stance, adjusted her words.

"Right, a job. Like…Brittany, what does the senior class do?"

"You guys are in charge of everything. Team captains, running Class Night, dance committees…Everyone knows you're the coolest."

Morgan allowed herself a smile. "Right, Seniors are leaders."

Santana picked up the thread. "Yeah and Juniors are dweebs. They're like…AV Club, Academic Bowl. Newspaper. Jesus…._Lit Mag_

Brittany nodded knowingly. "Total Ravenclaws."

"And Sophmores just party." Quinn concluded. She thought of Noah, who used to be a Sophomore, but got left back. And Erika and Dani, who nearly got kicked off the squad last month for sneaking a water bottle full of vodka on the Cheerios' bus.

"And what about you? What do freshbitches do?" Morgan cast her gaze over the three girls in front of her, landed on Santana.

Santana squirmed. "We…we…just got here."

Quinn tried to make a better case for them. "We're still establishing our identity."

"Exactly!" Sash rose to her knees, faced the girls. "You guys are just getting started, but look at all the stuff freshmen have gotten involved in already. A lot of your class made varsity teams, and even the JV squads are way better this year."

"So we're…sporty?" Santana ventured.

"Its more than that. You guys _are_ great athletes. I mean, Brittany…"

Sash didn't have to say any more. They had all just seen Brittany complete a series of sick tumbling runs in practice, each one executed perfectly, served up with a smile.

Brittany pumped a fist in the air. "I'm awesome."

"There." Morgan pointed at Brittany. "That's what your grade has."

"Fists?" Brittany lowered her arm and opened her palm, looked at her hand.

Sash giggled at Brittany. Santana glared at Sash.

Morgan shot a sharp look down at Santana and noticed Brittany and Santana's hands were still joined. She answered Brittany, but her eyes stayed on Santana.

"No, Brittany. Confidence."

Santana made herself stay still, sit straight. "What's your point Morgan?"

"There's that confidence again. Sometimes misplaced."

Morgan and Santana had a little staring contest. Morgan won.

"My point…Lopez…is that it's time for a transfer of power. We need a new head cheerleader for next year. And Coach and I both know its not gonna be one of those dork-ass Juniors or burnout Sophmores. They're not winners. It's gonna be a freshman." Morgan let that hang in the air for a second before adding, "It's gonna be one of you."

A brilliant smile lit up Brittany's face and she clapped joyfully, bounced in her seat. She knew it wasn't her, but Quinn or San being captain was even better. That way she could help with fun stuff like making signs for Spirit Week and organizing parties, and not have to worry about bossing everyone around.

Santana lowered her head, stared at her knee. Despite her best efforts to think of absolutely nothing, her heart pounded out "maybejustmaybe".

But then she looked over at Quinn, all perfect posture, blonde hair, smooth curves. It was easy to see, the answer to maybe was no.

Quinn kept her eyes on Morgan. Morgan nodded.

"Quinn."

Quinn gave Morgan a small quick smile, but it faded fast. She could feel Santana's eyes on her - hot, dry anger searing into her skin.

Morgan was still talking. "…nothing official until after Nationals. But if you want it, now's the time to step up and start acting the part. Tonight at the sleepover, this weekend at the competition, show everyone you're a leader."

Quinn nodded, her mind racing. How the heck was she supposed to do that?

"What the hell did you need us for then?" Santana snapped.

"Every leader needs followers. You want Quinn at the top? Get behind her."

Morgan watched Santana swallow hard and blink too fast. She made sure her voice was softer when she spoke again. "It'll be good for you too."

Santana looked up, found she was looking right into Morgan's eyes.

"If Quinn's head, you can do what you want." Morgan's gaze flickered over to Brittany and Santana's joined hands.

Santana turned away from Morgan, slid her hand away from Brittany's.

"Are we done?"

Morgan nodded.

Santana stood up and walked off toward the locker room, alone.

Brittany watched her go, then turned back to Quinn, threw her arms around her.

"Quinn! Head Quinn!"

Quinn's mouth was halfway between a smile and a frown. "She…"

"She'll be ok. I'll make sure."

Sash smiled at Brittany's words, stood up, snuck a hand behind Morgan's back and twined their fingers together. They were graduating in a month and a half anyway. The closer graduation day got, the more Sash found herself losing patience with tiptoeing around Lima. She had been rebelling in so many little ways lately. When Morgan wasn't panicking, she thought it was funny, sweet smiling Sash grown bold and badass.

She expected a smile back from Morgan. But Morgan was tracking Santana across the gym, watching her slim shoulders and straight back as she shoved the locker room door open with a bang.

Morgan frowned for a second, then noticed Sash's warmth at her side, Sash's thumb tracing delicate patterns on the back of her hand.

Sash got the smile she had been waiting for.

"Let's go home."

* * *

"Did you remember your retainer?"

"Yes." Quinn answered without turning from the window. The rain had stopped yesterday, and now the world was green and bursting with blooms, shimmering with the promise of summer.

"What about toothpaste?"

Quinn turned to face her mother.

"Yes. Mom. I can take care of my own dental hygiene for one weekend."

"I know." Judy Fabray reached out and patted down a stray hair on Quinn's head.

Quinn tightened her mouth into a straight line and stared out the front windshield. A half block ahead of them, she saw Brittany's mother's car pull up in front of Sash's house. She watched the passenger door open and Brittany emerge and then a second later, the back door, Santana.

They were at the trunk, collecting their duffel bags and sleeping bags, when the Fabrays pulled up behind them.

Quinn twisted around, grabbed her bags from the back seat. Pulling them into the front with her, she leaned over to kiss her mom on the cheek.

"Thanks Mom. Bye."

"Oh honey." Judy pulled her daughter into a tight embrace. "Your father and I are so proud of you. We just love you so much."

The gear shift dug into Quinn's ribs. She answered the way she was supposed to.

"I love you too."

She pulled back and threw her weight against the door, pulled the handle, hard.

Then she was out of the car, standing on Sash's lawn and wondering why she had been in such a hurry. Because now Santana was staring at her and Quinn had nothing to say.

Brittany closed her mom's trunk with a thud and walked over to Quinn. Santana followed, reluctantly.

"Hi!"

"Hi…" Quinn ventured cautiously, eyes still on Santana.

"Hey." Santana's gaze was focused somewhere to the right of Quinn's head.

Their parents' cars pulled away. A few more seconds passed in silence.

Brittany's eyes darted from Santana to Quinn. Her chin wrinkled, lips pressed together tight.

Quinn knew Brittany's mad face when she saw it. So she took a deep breath and tried to fix this. She put a hand out, brushed Santana's wrist with her fingers.

"Santana, listen. I…"

Santana looked down at Quinn's fingers. Quinn drew her hand back quickly, but when Santana looked up, the corners of her mouth were curled into the beginnings of a smile.

"I'm glad it's not one of them."

It was a little short of 'I'm glad it's you' but it was as close as Santana was willing to get.

Quinn held her gaze. "_We're_ going to run that place next year."

Santana's really smiled then. She hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and started toward the house.

"C'mon. Let's go be bitches."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi people! Here's some more from the Cheerios pre-national slumber party. It's still just getting started, let me know what you think about what I'm setting up here. These girls have a long night ahead...**

* * *

Morgan opened the front door.

"Hey. Everyone's putting their stuff down in the basement. Just around that way."

They headed in the direction Morgan had indicated, found a door open at the top of a flight of stairs.

Quinn and Brittany walked straight down into the crowd, but Santana stopped on the third step from the bottom, surveyed the scene.

The basement was large, carefully finished and completely furnished. The walls were cream with ivory accents, the wrap around couch dark brown suede. Girls in red Cheerios uniforms bloomed like flowers against the neutral colors.

There was a huge flat screen TV in the corner. Darcy and Jenna, who were on Academic Bowl as well as Cheerios, had grabbed the remote, commandeered the couch and flipped over to watch Jeopardy.

Santana rolled her eyes. But before she looked away, she caught the question on the screen and muttered under her breath, "What is the War of 1812?"

It was the right answer.

Her eyes kept roaming. A ping-pong table had been folded up and now stood against the far wall. A shelf of games and books was next to it. She saw a Ouiji board on there, wondered it that might come in handy later.

To her right, there was a full bar, three high stools in front, and a full sized fridge behind it. No liquor bottles were evident, but Santana could see that Erika, Dani and some of the other sophomore girls had crawled behind the bar and were trying to pick the locks on cabinets.

"San, come put your stuff with ours".

Brittany was beckoning from an archway that led through to a large alcove off of the main room. It was clearly the exercise area, a treadmill and stationary bike stood facing the archway, and a set of free weights took up one corner, a few rolled-up yoga mats leaning against it. Like the rest of the basement, the floor was carpeted. It looked like there was enough room for Brittany, Santana, Quinn and maybe one or two other girls to spread out their sleeping bags, when the time came. Santana noticed that the door to the basement bathroom was just to the left of the alcove. She decided definitely preferred this semi-private area to getting stepped on by 20 girls on their way to the bathroom all night.

"Good call." She nodded at Brittany, and tossed her stuff down next to Quinn and Brittany's bags.

"Food's all set up in the backyard. So when you guys are set, come on out." Sash called from the top of the basement steps.

Brittany knelt down by her bag, slipped a tube of watermelon LipSmackers out of the side pocket, applied some.

She offered it up to Santana, Santana took it without comment.

Quinn was just on the other side of the archway, talking to Ami.

"Not a bad move." Santana thought, as she glided the lip balm over her bottom lip. Ami was a junior, a cool version of a nerd. Besides being on Cheerios, she ran Riverdrift, the lit mag at school, and monthly poetry readings in the school auditorium. Not like Santana would ever got to such a thing, but Quinn went and said they weren't completely lame. Bands played sets before and after the poetry, some kid had even screened a short horror film there.

Ami was cracking up at something Quinn had said, nodding vehemently, the movement sending her dark curls bouncing.

Santana leaned forward, out of the archway. "Quinn. Want to head up?"

Quinn nodded at Santana and turned back to Ami.

"Ami, your pony." Quinn reached out and fingered a strand of Ami's hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

A soft flush crept into Ami's cheeks.

Santana was surprised. She knew about Ami's crush. That girl stared so hard at Quinn during practice it was a miracle her eyes didn't roll right out of her head. But she didn't realize Quinn knew, or would understand how to use the information to her own advantage.

"...see you upstairs." Quinn turned around quickly, her short skirt flaring out, exposing her legs to mid-thigh. She tossed a smile at Ami over her shoulder.

Ami's hands flew up to fix her hair.

"Nice work Q." Santana whispered as they reached the stairs. "I didn't know you were willing to use your Jesus-tease skills on girls."

Quinn paused on the top step and repeated Morgan's words from earlier that day. "Every leader needs followers. I'll do what it takes to be sure I get them."

Santana wondered if she hadn't been underestimating Quinn. Both Santana and Quinn had always seen futures far from Lima on the horizon. But it seemed that Quinn's vision had come into sharper focus today, and now she was walking faster, straining harder to get there soon.

Santana licked her lips. She tasted Brittany's lip gloss and her own view of the future blurred.

"Come." Brittany slipped her fingers into Santana's, tugged. Santana followed.

* * *

The kitchen was bright, airy, decorated in light blues and lavender, countertops all in white, kitchen table in blonde wood. The backdoor stood open, leading out onto a deck where Santana could see a table laden with healthy snacks, a barbecue grill off to the side. A man, was flipping burgers on the grill. Sash's father, Santana guessed.

Girls streamed through into the yard, but Sash was still in the kitchen, scrolling through the playlists on her ipod.

"Fuu...UGh."

"What's wrong?" Brittany stopped, concerned. Santana, who was hooked to her pinky, had to stop too.

"Ugh. My stupid brother deleted all the playlists I made for tonight and for the bus tomorrow."

Brittany, used to the adoration of her charming little sister, was shocked. "That's mean!"

"Yeah, he was being an ass 'cause my mom said he had to stay over at our cousins so he wouldn't sneak around and be a perv all night."

Sash scrolled through the ipod one more time and then gave up, sighing. "He's 13."

"Did you tell them he's an ass?" Morgan came in from the deck, carrying an empty ice bucket. She set it on the counter.

"Yep, covered that." Sash held the ipod out to Morgan, pouting. "Mor, he deleted all my playlists."

Morgan wanted to kiss Sash's mouth until she smiled again. But she opened the freezer and looked for a bag of ice instead. The cold rolled out against her cheeks, helped her breathe a little easier.

"Don't worry. Just put the radio on for now and make some new ones." Quinn, as always, looked for a reasonable solution.

"I can help!" Brittany offered happily. She had been trying to think of something to do to help Quinn be boss, or as San called it "control circumstances as much as possible." Picking bad-ass music that everyone would love, that Quinn knew a lot about and would look awesome rocking out to was totally something she could handle.

Morgan finished filling the ice bucket and turned around. "Good idea Brittany. You help Sash. Quinn and Santana, go make sure everyone's having a good time."

Morgan handed the ice bucket to Santana. "Take this over to the drinks table."

Santana didn't really like taking orders but there wasn't really any reason to refuse.

"I'll be out in a minute. Quinn, you can find a radio station, the stereo's out there by the drinks. If you need help, ask Sash's dad. And…just make sure people aren't wrecking the yard. Sash's mom hates that."

Quinn and Santana headed out. The kitchen fell quiet, Brittany, Morgan and Sash listened to the sounds of the party leaking in through the screen door. Sash handed Brittany the ipod.

"Here, see what songs you want. You know how to make a playlist?"

Brittany nodded, leaned against the wall and started flipping through Sash's music.

Morgan rummaged through the fridge. "I thought your mom got more seltzer...?"

"Maybe in the downstairs fridge?"

Morgan shrugged and moved over to stand closer to Sash.

There was a bowl of Starburst on the table, waiting to go outside. Morgan leaned over and picked through, taking out all the pink ones.

Sash watched her, smiling. "Are you saving those for me?"

Morgan unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth. "Nope." She grinned around the mouthful of candy.

Brittany looked up from the ipod, surprised. Morgan sounded so much like San.

Sash's lips curled into a sneaky smile, her eyes flashed gold. She knew what Morgan wanted to play.

She fixed her mouth into a pout and batted her eyelashes. "Can I have one? Please?"

Brittany stifled a giggle. For some reason, she didn't want to interrupt.

Morgan nodded. "Sure." But when Sash came closer, she held the handful of candy above her head, well out of Sash's reach. "All yours."

Sash wrinkled her nose at Morgan, saw Morgan grin back, mirror her action. Sash gave a leap, almost reached the candy. But Morgan was too fast, and took her hand down, brought the fistful of Starburst around behind her back.

Sash came toward her slow this time, kept her eyes locked on Morgan's. She feigned left, but then reached behind Morgan with her right hand. Her fingers brushed Morgan's but Morgan moved quickly out of her grasp. Sash lunged again, managed to lock her grip on Morgan's wrist this time.

Brittany watched them play, smiling. She had always been afraid of Morgan and shy around Sash. But now they seemed young and sweet, not scary.

Morgan was backed against the table now, her arm pinned behind her by Sash. Sash was close already and pressed closer.

Brittany thought they looked so pretty.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at Sash. "You really want a Starburst, huh?"

Sash moved closer still, pressing her chest to Morgan's, moving her head so Morgan could feel Sash's breath on her lips. "Yeah Morgan. I really want it."

Brittany's eyes were wide, a squeak of recognition caught in her throat. She understood now.

Morgan bent her head, their lips almost brushed. But before the kiss landed, a happy shriek sailed through the open kitchen door and brought her zooming back to reality. Adrenaline pumped through her body as she remembered exactly where she was. Sash's kitchen. With the entire Cheerio squad out back, and Sash's parents anywhere they wanted to be in their own house. She felt hot, then freezing cold.

But Sash was still practically on top of her, Sash's fingers were still twined around her wrist. Only where they touched, her skin burned.

Morgan watched the gold dance in Sash's eyes, fought hard.

After a few seconds, she said, softly, "Sash. We can't..." and moved to break away. But those few seconds had been too long.

"Sarah-Ashley!"

"Mom!" Sash took a big step back, away from Morgan. She moved so quickly and so far, her ankle twisted, she almost fell.

Morgan stayed where she was, head bent, cheeks burning.

"What's going on here?" Mrs. Blake had light eyes like Sash, but the spark was gone from hers, leaving them the color of a brittle leaf. They regarded her daughter coolly. Scorn curled her upper lip.

Anger boiled up from the pit of Morgan's stomach. It rose through her chest and clawed its way out of her throat. "We weren't doing anything! We were just kidding around!"

"I didn't ask you."

Brittany had pressed her back to the wall hard, trying to disappear. But she couldn't help letting out a gasp of surprise at the hard tone Mrs. Blake took with Morgan. It had sounded like a slap.

Mrs. Blake looked Brittany over. "Sarah-Ashley, who is this?"

"That's Brittany." Sash stared at a particular square of tile on the kitchen floor, the one that her brother had thrown a plate down on. The corner was chipped.

"Well. Come with me Sarah-Ashley. We need to talk privately."

"But mom, there's..." Sash gestured to the party outside.

"Now." The word fell from Mrs. Blake's lips like a stone – hard and heavy.

Morgan didn't breathe until they left the room, worried that any exhale would lead to another outburst. Her throat burned.

Brittany could read the distress on Morgan's face. Her eyes shone with unshed tears, her mouth pinched itself into a narrow line. Her dusky skin was pale as Brittany had ever seen it, except for two bright spots of color flaming at her cheeks.

If this were Quinn, Brittany could hug her, stroke her hair, make her laugh with silly knock-knock jokes, the same ones since 2nd grade. If this were Santana, Brittany would have linked their pinkies, then all their other fingers, one by one and slow, until they were holding hands. Then turned, kissed her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

But Brittany wasn't sure what to do for Morgan. She studied her, looking for a way in. Morgan just stared at the spot where Sash had been.

Brittany knew then how to start.

"Sash is pretty."

Morgan didn't answer right away. But after a few moments, she nodded, slowly. The movement sent a tear spilling over. She pressed her palm to her cheek, swiping it away.

Brittany said what she had always thought. "I think she looks like an awesome unicorn."

Morgan looked at Brittany now, managed a smile. "I…kinda get that."

"You look pretty…together."

Morgan looked away again, chewed the inside of her cheek. "Her mother hates me."

"She doesn't…" Brittany started, but stopped. That wasn't actually true.

"She can't hate Sash, so she hates me."

Brittany didn't answer. She didn't understand.

Morgan fiddled with the thin silver link bracelet on her left wrist. "She's not gonna let her come to Boston. They're going to make her go to school in Colorado."

Brittany didn't have to understand the details to get the point. Morgan and Sash were being ripped in half.

"Ohh…" Brittany felt a twist of pain in her chest.

Morgan looked down at the younger girl, felt badly for infecting her with sadness. And as always, the dull throb of fear beat at her temples. "I shouldn't have said…"

But Brittany's blue eyes were steady. "No. I get it. You're a secret."

Morgan looked at her, curiously. She was still staring when Dara and Kiersten banged in through the back door.

"Morgan, where's the bathroom?"

"I'll show you."

Morgan ushered them out of the kitchen, into the hall. But she turned back to Brittany one more time. Her mouth moved, a whispered "Thanks."

And then Brittany was alone in the kitchen, thinking hard about Santana, a new ache budding in her heart.

* * *

**Oh NO. What is Sash's mom saying to her? The answer to this, and other burning questions like - Did Quinn find a good radio station? and What's Santana planning with that Ouiji board? in the next installment. ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Heyyyyy. Sleepovers update YEAH. Sorry for my slow ass updating schedule as usual. But I persevere, and I WILL finish this. This one was harder than the others too, the more this story goes on, the more complicated it gets. But I think I eventually got around to revealing an interesting new piece of information. Feed me feedback!**

**To recap: Britts and Santana have been having sleepovers...their whole lives. Roundabout 8th grade, things got interesting. In 9th, things got even more interesting when they kissed. And kissed and kissed. Now its the end of 9th grade, Quinn is fighting to become head Cheerio, with some help from Santana's scheming mind. They're at a Cheerios sleepover, at Sash's house. Sash and Morgan, current HBICs, have their own secret relationship drama going on, which Brittany is starting to understand might hold some insights for her. **

**Back to the party...**

The stereo was blaring David Cook's _Time of My Life_. It was the senior class song, and everyone else was sick to death of hearing it. Erika made her way over to the radio, mashed some buttons, trying to tune to a new station. Static squawked through the speakers.

Some of the girls nearby turned to try to help. Four sets of hands reached for the tuning buttons, four voices bickered over what station to choose.

Santana let them flail for a minute, watched the tension mount. When it had gotten to the point where Erika physically pushed back against the other girls, she stepped in close and slid a hand between Erika and the stereo.

"Hey!"Erika was chewing gum, but Santana caught the scent of vodka underneath the Bubblicious. She smiled.

"Hey yourself, Boozifer Aniston. Let someone else give it a try."

Erika huffed, stood her ground for a second. But when she brushed her long bangs out of her eyes with her thumb, she looked so much like a low-rent Jennifer Aniston that the juniors nearby snickered, and her cheeks flushed red. She slowly backed away.

Quinn moved in, pressed the tuner button. Miraculously, she immediately landed on a station that was just starting up with The Pussycat Dolls' _When I Grow Up_, one of their Cheerios songs for Nationals.

A whoop went up from the girls in the crowd, and Quinn inclined her head in a modest little bow. Santana would have rolled her eyes if she saw it, but she didn't, her eyes were on the door, watching for Brittany.

Quinn and Santana drifted over to the table of snacks. Santana selected a baby carrot, crunched down on it. There were girls all around them in twos and threes and fours. Quinn started to talk, something about the bus trip tomorrow. But Santana shushed her, tilted her head to indicate the girls around them. Quinn understood, pretended to be busy with the food, and listened.

After a few minutes, and some new and fascinating information about what Casey was doing in the broom closet with a student teacher, Santana spoke again.

"You can use that." She bit down on another carrot.

Quinn nodded. But at the same time, she bit the inside of her cheek, not entirely comfortable with the idea. She had honestly thought you got to be popular by being good. She blushed at her own naïveté.

Quinn was happy for the distraction when Brittany emerged from the house, ipod in her hand.

"I did the music" she handed the ipod to Quinn and Quinn walked off to hook it up to the stereo.

Santana studied Brittany, wondering when she had gotten so sad.

"Are you..."

But Brittany cut her off. "Where do you want to go to college?"

Santana almost laughed at the suddenness of the question. But the forlorn look in Brittany's eyes, the urgency in her voice, made her bite the laugh back in time and answer seriously.

"College? Uh...I don't really...but maybe New York. I don't know."

Santana did know. The answer was New York. But Brittany seemed so scared. She didn't want her answer to be the wrong one.

But it seemed like New York was a good answer. Brittany brightened a little. She liked New York, associated it with the petting zoo in Central Park and the Rockettes. Her parents had taken her over spring break in the 5th grade.

"Why are we talking about college?

Brittany hesitated. She wasn't sure she could explain what just happened in the kitchen, and she didn't think Morgan and Sash would want her to try.

"I...just...was wondering."

Morgan came out of the kitchen then, paler than usual, glaring at everyone, mowing down girls in her way. Santana put a hand on Brittany's shoulder, moved her a little to the right, out of Morgan's path. But Morgan cut a wide swath around Brittany and Santana and crossed to the far side of the yard where she held a hurried, whispered conversation with Lizzy, her other best friend.

Santana squinted at her, then turned back to Brittany, who was now chewing on her lower lip.

"Don't worry about college Britt. It's not for a long time."

Brittany nodded, but kept worrying her lip between her teeth.

"C'mon. Lets go take over the trampoline."

Santana got the smile she was looking for.

* * *

Sash stood with her hand on the screen door, not quite ready to take the next step and rejoin the party. She looked back toward the stairs. But her mother was upstairs. She'd rather be out in the fresh air after all. She opened the door and walked out.

Her father was still by the grill. He looked up, saw her and smiled.

She wondered if he didn't notice her blotchy face, her eyelashes still wet with tears. Or maybe he just didn't want to ask anymore. What went on between her and her mother was nothing new.

Most of the girls were down on the lawn, watching Brittany and Santana flip on the trampoline, or working out bits from routines on the grass.

But Quinn was by the grill, waiting for her veggie burger.

"Hey."

Sash had always marveled at Quinn's voice. It was soft but not weak, a feminine grumble that caught at the edges.

"Hi." Sash answered, but her gaze was off in the middle distance. She was trying not to blink too much, worried a few last tears would spill over onto her cheeks.

"Everyone's having a great time, it's a great party."

Sash was surprised. "Oh. Good."

Morgan spotted her, in a few seconds she was up the stairs and on the deck. She ignored Quinn, pulled Sash away.

Sash's father handed Quinn her veggie burger on a paper plate, but she didn't head back onto the lawn right away. She turned to the table of condiments, busied herself with a ketchup bottle and listened, the way Santana taught her to do.

Morgan and Sash's whispers were urgent and panicky. Their voices carried more than they meant them to.

"What did she say?"

"Nothing. The same stuff." Sash sounded exhausted. Quinn saw her hands reach for Morgan, but her gaze slid over to her father and she pulled them back and crossed her arms across her chest instead, hugging herself tight.

"We're not allowed to sleep near each other tonight." Sash continued.

"It's a fucking slumber party!" Morgan was much louder than she meant to be.

Sash was quiet now though, fading. "Just...she said she'll check."

"Fine." Morgan turned her back on Sash for a second, then turned back, her gaze softer. "I'm not mad at you..."

"Really? 'Cause…"

They both looked up then. Quinn looked down quickly, took her plate and moved away.

* * *

Night had fallen, turning the sunny afternoon into a surprisingly chilly night. Most of the girls had gone in to bump and jostle each other as they changed into pajamas, clustered in the bathrooms, flicked the mirrors with water and spit as they brushed their teeth.

Brittany was still outside, rubbing the goosebumps that had risen on her arms. On the deck, Santana and Quinn were having a little conference, trading information, solidifying plans for the rest of the evening. Brittany only half listened. Her gaze traveled around the edges of the yard, the corners shrouded in darkness. She caught a flash, the white stripes on a Cheerios uniform, the white of Cheerios sneakers. Morgan and Sash. Then they were gone and Brittany wondered how they disappeared. After a puzzled second, she realized they had slipped off into the shadows behind the bicycle shed.

She turned her eyes toward the house, nervous.

Santana bumped her with her shoulder, pulling her back into the conversation.

"…know that we know that they've been sneaking drinks."

"We can't let them be drunk tomorrow at nationals. Or even hung over. "

"I know. We've gotta figure out a way for someone else to shame them into it though. You don't want to deal too directly with..."

Brittany zoned out again, her eyes straining into the darkness, wondering exactly where Morgan and Sash were and what they were doing.

Quinn listened to Santana's reasoning, nodded along with her plans, but there was a new fear gnawing at her.

Santana had always been an organized thinker, a careful planner. But now that her energies were focused and directed at getting Quinn into the head Cheerio position, she was surpassing herself, revealing a talent for manipulation that was frankly, disturbing. Quinn wondered what parts of their shared past might be the products of such machinations. She realized she had already trusted Santana with too many of her secrets.

"…with the Ouija board. Ok?"

Quinn agreed. Santana's plans would work. Quinn thought of the glories that awaited her at the top of the pyramid, and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Girls?" Mrs. Blake poked her head out of the door. "It's time to come in, don't you think."

"Hi Sash's mom!" Brittany was unnaturally loud.

Sash's mother cast an eye over the girls on the porch. She pursed her lips, rolled her tongue behind her teeth.

"Are Sarah-Ashley and..." She paused for a second. "…Morgan still out here with you?"

Quinn started to answer, but Brittany interrupted. "They're helping me…find… something." She was still much louder than she needed to be.

Quinn and Santana were startled. Santana recovered first. If Brittany thought a lie was necessary, than a lie was clearly necessary.

Santana stepped in front of Brittany, crossed her arms. "Yeah. They're looking for Brittany's bracelet."

Santana knew full well Brittany's bracelet was downstairs in her duffel bag. She never wore it the day before a competition. She thought it had to rest and save up its luck for the next day.

Sash's mom eyed them skeptically. Before she could speak again, Morgan bounded up the steps to the deck.

"Sorry Brittany, we didn't find it."

Sash was a few yards behind her, head down, cheeks pale. When she reached the spoke, her voice was almost a whisper.

"We tried…"

"It's ok. Thank you for trying." Brittany was talking fast. "I have to go to the bathroom now though. Show me where it is." Brittany reached for Sash's hand, yanked her along, pulling her past Mrs. Blake and through the door.

Sash's mother cast a disapproving eye over the girls left on the porch, lingering on Santana and even longer on Morgan. But all she said was, "Go inside."

Quinn led the way and they filed in. Mrs. Blake moved past them, out onto the deck. She walked down the steps to the lawn and strode across the grass. Her head was down, as if, despite the dark, she was looking for evidence of a crime.

* * *

The basement was vibrating in candy cane stripes. All the girls are were in red and white Cheerios sleep gear – sweats, shorts, t-shirts, tank tops.

The benefit of whatever just happened outside, which Santana still didn't entirely get, was that everyone was pretty much done with the bathroom by the time she and Quinn got downstairs.

Brittany was still in the upstairs bathroom with Sash, Quinn faded off into the crowd. Santana was went to her bag to find her pajamas, relieved to realize she could change now, without Brittany.

Lately, changing with Brittany was more fun than it really should be.

Santana tried not to let her eyes linger on the freckles that dusted across Brittany's strong shoulders, didn't let herself look for that spot that curved in right _there_ at the base of Brittany's spine. It was difficult, especially because Brittany always pressed in so close, giggling, teasing her. She didn't understand why Santana moved away, she pouted when Santana slid her bag further down the locker room bench. But Santana was strict with herself. An elbow in the ribs, a toe against Santana's ankle, any accidental touch of skin was exciting enough to need to be avoided in public.

So Santana gathered up her clothes and took the opportunity to slip off into the basement bathroom to change, alone.

In the bathroom, she stepped out of her Cheerios uniform, pulled a Cheerios t-shirt over her head and a pair of Cheerios shorts up over her slim hips. She washed her face, dried it. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was changing.

She leaned forward, until her nose almost touched the mirror, then back again, so she could see her face without going cross-eyed.

Her eyes. She liked her eyes. Thick, long lashes fringed deep brown eyes that looked dark and luxurious. "Like a sexy bunny" Brittany had said once. That was okay.

Her skin was alright, usually. But the heavy makeup they had been wearing for competitions lately had clogged the pores at the tip of her nose, the sides of her nostrils. She resisted the urge to pick at her skin, scrunched her nose at her reflection and turned on the faucet to wash her face a second time.

Someone had left a bottle of foaming cleanser on the counter. Santana picked it up, pumped a handful of suds from the bottle. She spread the suds over her face, fingertips touching her forehead - high but livable -, her cheeks - too round - , her chin.

Automatically, her thumb felt for the hidden scar, just under her jaw line. But she couldn't felt it. She rinsed the suds from her face, then titled her head back to see.

There. Almost gone now.

John hadn't meant for it to happen.

_She knew he really didn't. But he threw the beer bottle down with considerable force, just as his mouth moved, shaping the hard hiss of breath that came from his body. _

"…_Fuck- fuck-ing tease!"_

_He hadn't thrown it at her, but near her feet. She flinched away, her left hand automatically coming up to cover her eyes. A shard of glass flew off in a surprising direction, nicked her under the_ chin.

_His eyes flashed once, but at the sight of the blood, he became apologetic. Sweet, even. He joked with her while he cleaned her up; he was gentle with the gauze and band-aids. _

_So after another drink, vodka this time, when he pressed her down to the couch and tried again, she lay back and let him. _

_It hurt. _

_After the first time he tried to make it nicer for her. Another drink, some interesting work with his hands that made her blush and think unexpectedly of Brittany. She took a big drink then, straight vodka. The burn replaced the far less comfortable feelings she was having, and after that the second time was kind of okay. She could tell he liked it better too. _

_He drove her home after, gave her a surprisingly chaste kiss goodnight._

She splashed water on her face, rinsing the suds away. Her hands reached for a washcloth, but in the unfamiliar bathroom, she didn't find what she was looking for. She opened her eyes too soon, got soap in them. Her eyes burned and she bent back to the water, splashed her face again.

The next day Brittany had come over, woken Santana up with whispers.

"_What happened?"_

_Brittany's voice was right at her ear. Her fingers were on Santana's face, her thumb drawing a circle around the wound on Santana's chin. Santana had looked in the mirror before going to bed the night before – it was just a thin line of blood now. But still, Brittany found it, first. _

_Santana sat up in bed, drew her knees in to her chest. "That's nothing."_

_Brittany's eyes stayed on her, doubtful. _

"_Really. Nothing."_

_Brittany, perched on the edge of the bed, looked away. Her eye fell on Santana's bra, which had been thrown over the back of the desk chair. Black, lace. Not one she had seen before. _

"_Did you have sex?"_

_She turned back to Santana. _

_Santana nodded. Her eyes were still, but she had worked a smirk into the corner of her mouth. _

"_Did it hurt? Courtney said it hurts."_

"_I told you not to talk to her. She couldn't even hack it on the loser JV squad." Santana snapped. Brittany said nothing, but looked wounded. Santana felt a twinge of guilt. _

_She shifted her position on the bed, felt a burn in the muscles of her thighs. "Lemme pee. Then I'll tell you."_

_Santana threw back the covers and disappeared into the bathroom. While she was gone, Brittany kicked off her shoes and slipped into the bed, laying her head where Santana's had been. _

_When Santana came back, she smelled of toothpaste. Brittany wriggled a bit to make room for her in the bed._

_Santana got in, lay flat on her back, staring a spot where the wall met the ceiling. The room was still plum-purple and white, the colors she had chosen in 5__th__ grade. _

"_I gotta paint this fucking room."_

_Brittany wiggled around to balance on her left side. She rested her head on her left hand, bent her right leg at the knee, rested so it touched the outside of Santana's left thigh._

"_Red?"_

"_Black."_

_Santana was silent for a few minutes. The hands on her vintage alarm clock made their noisy way around the dial. _

"_It did hurt. A lot."_

_Santana turned her head and caught the worried look that flitted over Brittany's face. _

"_But only for a little while" She hastened to add. "Then…"_

_She stopped for a second. Brittany blinked, pale lashes coming to rest on pink cheeks. Santana went ahead with the lie. _

"_Then it was nice. Really nice." __With some other boy, it might have been the truth. _

"_Like in the movie?"_

_She meant Romeo and Juliet, they had just watched it in English.  
_

_Santana couldn't help but laugh. "No. Not like that. Not so soft."_

"_But still nice right?"_

_Santana forced a smile. "It was fun."_

_Brittany grinned slyly. "Like making out?" She trailed a hand suggestively over Santana's abdomen. _

"_Not exactly." _

_Brittany's hand reached he edge of Santana's boxer shorts. _

_Santana squirmed away. "Britt. No."_

_Brittany frowned, but her hand lay still on Santana's tummy. The tip of her middle finger fit perfectly into the indentation of Santana's belly button. _

_Santana felt Brittany's hand rise and fall with her breathing. _

"_Listen, Brittany. If you really want it to be fun, when you do it…there's one thing…" _

_Brittany's touch was distracting. Santana pushed away and sat up. _

_Brittany sat up too, nodding along. "Okay."_

_Santana closed her eyes for a long second. The blue of Brittany's eyes was making this harder than it should be. _

"_Never say no."_

_Having delivered the advice she had decided to give Brittany last night, Santana opened her eyes again. _

_"Do you know what I mean?"  
_

_Brittany shook her head, no. _

_Santana had also decided last night how much to explain. _

"_You're so…"Santana gestured to Brittany, from her flowing blonde hair to the adorable scrape on her left knee. "Boys really like you. Everyone really likes you. You make people happy." _

_She looked away, realizing how sappy that sounded. _

_But it made Brittany smile. She leaned in and rested her palm on Santana's bare thigh, stroked gently over the smooth skin._

_Santana resisted the urge to relax into the touch. _

"_If a guy wants to do it and you say no…he might be sad. Or mad." Santana's voice dropped to a whisper on the last words. _

"_Do you understand now?  
_

"_Never say no." Brittany repeated. She leaned in then, kissed the underside of Santana's jaw, right at that thin line of blood. _

_Santana sighed. She didn't breathe in again for a long minute, just thought hard. _

_She decided she'd get Puck to tell his friend Jamie to take Brittany out. Jamie was a junior, on the basketball team. He was always staring at Brittany in the halls, blushing when she bumped into him near their lockers. He was tall and silly, and wouldn't hurt anyone. He'd be good practice. _

_Brittany pulled her back down to the bed. _

"_Let's cuddle."_

_Santana glanced toward the door. It was closed. But still…_

_Brittany felt her stiffen and answered the question she hadn't asked. _

"_They were going out when I came in. They had their tennis stuff."_

_That meant her parents would be out all day, probably have dinner out too. Santana relaxed into Brittany's embrace, pillowed her head on Brittany's shoulder. _

_Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head, then moved so she could kiss her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. _

_Santana moved toward Brittany's warmth, twining their legs together, sliding her hands up under Brittany's sweater. _

_Brittany kissed her mouth. The kiss was slow, soft, perfect. _

_Santana realized how little she had slept last night. She yawned against Brittany's mouth. Her eyelids drooped. _

_Brittany giggled. "Nap time."_

Someone pounded on the door.

"C'mon, other people need this bathroom too."

"One second!"

Santana found a dry towel, rubbed her face, blotted at her eyes. She checked one more time in the mirror for the scar.

Right there. Almost gone.


End file.
